Line of Fire
by WhispersofNature
Summary: Bravo Company wasn't expecting to find a POW during their tour, especially a woman. As they find out more about her, they also gain more intel about the war. But the more she reveals about herself, a certain soldier can't help but be drawn in. Brad/OC
1. Chapter 1

_This will be my first story on here so, please, bear with me. I'll try my best to keep all the characters as true to themselves as possible as well as keeping the story as realistic as possible. Since this is a story about marines, I'll try to keep as many military procedures true to how they are performed in real life (my mom is in the Air Force so she's basically acting as my advisor on military culture). Other than that, I hope you enjoy and **please** review, it helps me know what I'm doing well or bad and any mistakes I may have made. _

**Chapter 1**

**The Price of Freedom**

My hands were tied together, my mouth taped. I was dragged by my hair outside. God, it felt like the sun burned my skin as it touched me. I couldn't even manage to open my eyes. I was thrown into a truck, I know that much. Men piled in afterwards. The van lurched as it started off; the same musty smell was all of a sudden in the air. The tape was ripped from my lips, my hair pulled, forcing me in an upright position. My eyes, half faded, opened up to the dim light from outside illuminating the inside of the van. There stood a man before me. I could just barely make out his features: bright green eyes with gray flecks, coarse black hair, and a beard that wasn't too long. His most distinguishing feature, however, was a deep scar that ran down his right cheek, half hidden by his beard. He began speaking, but I was fading in and out and was unable to hold on to the words he was saying. This was going to be a long ride.

I could hear the bombs in the background. I should be happy. _Yeah, kill those motherfuckers!_ But what does it matter? I don't know which side it is, nor did I care. Both sides are the same; none will win.

* * *

><p>I groaned as I was thrown into someone's legs, my hip digging into the side of the van. It was dark out now leaving no light in the van to see. Slowly my eyes adjusted and I vaguely made out the outlines of the men sitting there. They were all fast asleep even through the bumpy road.<p>

I turned my head as a glimmer caught my attention. It was a knife, sticking out of the pocket of one of the men. My eyes narrowed, slowly I inched over. I don't know what came over me but I didn't care. I was going for it. Quietly, I lifted my upper half, my eyes glued to the man's face. I forced myself to sit up slowly. My hands reached out, my fingers touching the cold wooden handle that held the blade. I wrapped my fingers around it, gripping it tight as I slowly pulled it from him. Suddenly, shots outside made me gasp as I felt it slip from my hand and land on the floor with an echoing _thump_. I quickly dropped down to the floor of the van and squeezed my eyes shut as it came to a screeching halt. There was shouting amongst the people again as everyone began to wake. One man stepped out and walked around the other side. He didn't close the door all the way, leaving a sliver of it open. Another gunshot was heard, more shouting, this time more frantic. The van was put into reverse and it screeched backwards, turning around to go back the way it came.

I took this one chance. I don't know what suddenly came over me, but I needed to get out. I needed to get the fuck away. I needed to fight back. I kicked my leg out, the one part they didn't tie down, hitting the guy closest to the door. The force pushed him back as the car swerved, pushing out the back door. I slid down the floor and, with nothing to hold on to, followed after. I hit the ground hard, rolling across the dirt road. As quick as I regained my composure, there was a man standing above me, maybe two. One of them grabbed my arm and I felt the hard jab of a gun being pushed into my back. He began yelling at me but my head was spinning and I couldn't make any of it out. I jerked, trying to get away, but his grip held fast. I kicked and screamed against the tape that was reapplied to my mouth but they just hit back. Blows covered my body as they began to drag me back to the van. Then, without warning they stopped.

I heard a gunshot and the man standing on my left fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Another gunshot, and the man next to me fell. His grip tightened on my arm when the bullet ripped through his chest, causing me to be yanked down with him. With my arms still tied behind my back I had nothing to brace my impact with the ground. A loud cry escaped my lips as my shoulder took the full force of my fall. I wasn't sure of the full extent of the damage, but I had a feeling that I didn't want to know.

I could hear the men yelling, scrambling back into the truck. There was more gunfire. I heard both doors of the van close as its tires kicked up a blanketing cloud of dust into the night air. The moon was full that night, illuminating the fine particles into a sort of mist. As the sound of the van grew distant, the gunfire stopped. I didn't know how much time had passed. For a moment, all I could hear was my breathing.

In the distance I faintly heard voices. These voices were different, somehow, than the voices I had become accustom to hearing. This ignited a spark of hope within my chest.

I managed to pull myself away from the man's grip on my arm, finding it in myself to sit upright. For a moment I was dizzy, and the pain in my shoulder was radiating through every inch of my being. The voices came louder now and pulled me back into reality. I leaned forward to my knees before managing to stand up. My legs were shaky, but they worked. I looked ahead and saw a single pair of headlights, though I was too far away for the light to reach me. It was then that I realized figures had been moving towards me, though they stopped when I stood. The silhouette was familiar: a soldier. I could distinctly make out the curve of their helmets and the vague outline of their guns.

I heard someone yell something that must have been directed at me. I tried to yell back, but there was no way I could yell through the thick tape still covering my mouth. Instead, I began walking forward, hoping one of them would see my predicament. As I got closer the shouting increased and all their words jumbled up into one until all I heard was the echo of a gunshot in the distance. Flat on my back, all I could see were the millions of stars that lay above me, and the moon, disappearing behind a single cloud that drifted effortlessly across the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:** I have reviewed/edited this chapter at least nineteen times, and I'm still not too thrilled with it, but it didn't seem fair to keep you all waiting for too much longer, so here it is! Thank you to VogueGirl19, WhitePONY09, and everyone else who left reviews and encouragement; they helped a lot :) Enjoy!_

**Chapter 2**

**Waking Up**

My eyes slowly opened, met with a dim light. I carefully sat up; the blanket that had been draped over my shoulders slipped off and fell beside me. I looked around, seeing almost nothing. I was sitting inside of barren tent, only a few blankets below me separated me from the hard earth. There were a few things littered here and there, stacks of boxes behind me and soe equipment near the entrance, but I didn't know what they were, nor did I care.

I gripped the blanket and wrapped it back around myself, not because I was cold, but because I found that my body was still shaking. I couldn't make it stop. I went to move back so that I could sit up against the boxes, but as I moved my arm back, pain coursed through my body. I bit my lip to stifle my groan as I looked down to try to discern the cause of this pain. I was met with the sight of my shoulder, completely wrapped in a mountain of gauze and medical tape. I managed to push myself back with my legs and lean back against the boxes. I closed my eyes and took in slow, steady breaths. This was wrong. I suddenly opened my eyes when it hit me. I was in a tent. Not a room in a building, a tent. Then I remembered.

"I see the morphine's wearing off," came a voice from the entrance of the tent.

I turned my head to see the man attached to the voice. He was a soldier. American, I'd have to guess, based on the uniform pattern. And lack of accent.

"Sorry 'bout this."

"What happened?" My voice was distant and cracked. It wasn't mine. At least, not what I'd remembered it to be. But I hadn't used my voice in a long time, so it's not like I had much to base this assertion on.

"Looks like Trombley got trigger happy last night. We didn't know you were-" he paused at this, a contemplative expression coming to his face, "one of us."

"Who's saying I am?"

He lost all expression on his face as he looked up at me.

"Especially after this," I said as I glanced down at my shoulder.

He pulled back the blanket slowly, just enough to reveal my bandaged shoulder. "Shit happens," he shrugged as he began to unwrap it. I hadn't noticed till now the pack beside him, and realized he must be the medical person traveling with them. All units had one.

"How bad is it?" My voice barely carried above a whisper.

"Not too bad. You're lucky. The bullet missed any major arteries, and it looks like it went clean through."

"Lucky me."

"Once the chopper comes they'll probably take you to Balad Air Base, then to Ramstein Air Base In Germany. From there they'll patch you up and get you back home."

I laughed a bit at the word 'home,' as if I'd had a home to go back to.

He glanced at me as I laughed, before going back to cleaning around the wound. "Where're your tags?"

"Oh, I'm not a soldier."

He stopped what he was doing to look up at me. "Then, if you don't mind me asking, what the hell are you doing out here?"

Well now that was a hard question to answer. Thankfully, in the midst of me trying to find an answer to his question, another soldier walked in.

"She decent?"

"One second."

He finished wrapping up my shoulder, cutting off the last piece of medical tape and pressing it down. He pulled out a small tube that almost looked like chap stick, though it was filled with a clear liquid. I guessed it was morphine, and my guess was confirmed when he inserted a needle at the top. He took my arm in his hand and turned it facing up, placing the tip of the needle in line with my vein before pushing it in. A burning sensation spread through the crevice of my arm, and I could feel the liquid flow into my vein as he squeezed it out. This pain only lasted a moment, though, before he was done and covered the small wound with a Band-Aid. I'm not sure why, but just the fact that even out here they used Band-Aids made me smile.

Once he was done I pulled the blanket back up around my neck. Mind you, I didn't have a shirt on. I could only assume this was because they ripped it off when they were treating my wound earlier. I knew in emergency situations, clothes were always the first thing to go. But now I suddenly felt self-conscience. I knew that outside the tent were more than a dozen marines who hadn't been around women in a long time.

"Mind finding me a shirt?" I asked the man who had treated me.

He glanced up at me before he stood up. "I'll see what I can do." With this, he turned and walked towards the other soldier and they walked out of the tent together. Once again, I was left alone.

I sighed and closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the boxes. I could feel the morphine start to kick in as my whole body went numb. It was nice. Soon, my body was relaxed and I fell back asleep.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry, you know. I didn't know you weren't a Haji. All I saw were the other ones go down and then you got back up. They never let me shoot anyone... just thought I'd get to shoot someone."<p>

"Who are you talking to?" I groaned softly, turning over slightly and looking in the direction from which the voice came.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were awake."

"I wasn't."

"Oh."

"So, you're the one who shot me?" I asked as I sat up, making sure to keep the blanket up around my shoulders. "Trombley, right?"

"How'd you know my name?"

"The doctor, he was the one who told me that some guy name Trombley shot me. Don't worry," I said reassuringly as I saw his expression turn worried, "he told me it was an accident."

"Yeah, you know, I'm really sorry about that. I am."

"You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Who were you talking to?"

"I was talking to you," he replied, though his expression showed his confusion.

"But I was asleep."

"I know."

"So... you were talking to me, knowing I was asleep?"

"Yeah," he sighed. A look came across his face as if he finally understood what I was asking. "I don't know. It's just, it's easier."

I nodded. "It's easier to apologize for shooting someone when they're not consciously facing you. That it?"

"Something like that."

"Still harassing the poor girl I see," came a voice from across the tent. Another marine had walked in, and I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

"I'm not harassin her. I'm-"

"Apologizing," I finished for him, hearing his voice break. I guess apologizing wasn't exactly in his repertoire.

Trombley looked up at the soldier who returned his gaze with a surprised look.

"Here," he said after a moment, walking over and handing me a beige shirt. "Doc said you needed one."

"That I do," I nodded as I grabbed the shirt, glad to have something to put on. As I took the shirt I noticed a bit of blood on the cuff on his sleeve. I glanced up at him, wondering if that was my blood. "And you are?" I asked as I dropped the blanket in order to put on the shirt. I was just glad they left my bra on.

"Sgt. Brad Colbert," he said, he voice sounding a bit reluctant.

"Nice to meet you Sergeant," I said as I pulled my shirt down. I winced a bit at the small amount of pain in my shoulder, but thanks to the morphine I didn't feel too much of it.

"Get ready. They'll be here to cas-evac you soon," he said before he turned and walked out of the tent.

"Pleasant man he is," I sighed as I pushed the blanket all the way off, debating whether I should try to stand or just sit there till the helicopter came.

"Naw, that's just Iceman. He's like that all the time," Trombley said with a shrug. "Hey, what's your name?"

I glanced up at him and for a moment and contemplated making up a name. This was the guy who shot me after all, but it's not like I would ever see him after this. "Pheonix."

"That your real name?"

I rolled my eyes and wondered why I'd opted for the latter. "Yes, it is, but most people call me Sam - from my middle name."

"Oh. Still, that's a cool name."

"As apposed to...?"

"Well, like my name. My mom named me Harold."

I could almost feel a grin form on my lips but managed to hold it back. "That's not that bad."

He rolled his eyes, as if he could tell I was holding back. "Why do you think I go by James?"

I shrugged. "I thought you went by Trombley."

"Naw, that's just cause I'm a Lance Corporal. My friends all call me James."

I nodded. "Well Harold, mind showing me around before I leave?"

I could see him almost cringe at the use of his first name. "Around what?"

I shrugged. "Around. Might want to thank the people that saved me before I leave, too."

"Yeah, I guess."

He got up and walked over to me, holding out his hand for me to take before gently helping me up.

I pushed the flap of the tent out and ducked under it, slowly making my way outside. I looked around at the marines, most congregated around Humvees, talking and joking with one another. The sun was going down and they looked as though they were packing things up, getting ready to go. They were probably going to leave once I was gone. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, taking in the last of the warm air. As night fell, so would the temperature.

After I'd walked about the convoy, attracting more than a few glances and ignoring various cat-calls, I rested against one of the trucks that Trombley had identified as being his.

"So, you're the one who our boy Trombley shot," said a man rolling up a tarp with Brad. He had a sly grin on his lips as he gave me a sideways glance. "Thank God he wasn't a good shot. Be a damn shame if he'd killed ya. Tell me Trombley, how does it feel to serve as our country's finest, yet miss all the Hajis and shoot an American civilian?"

"Ray," came Brad's voice in a warning tone.

"You know it was an accident," Trombley grumbled behind me.

"Of course it was. It's hard to tell us apart, you know?" Another warning came from Brad, and he let up. "I'm Cpl. Josh Ray Person," he said as he finished securing the tarp and turned to me, "Nice to meet you."

He held out his hand, which I hesitantly shook.

"No need to be nervous here," he reassured, "you're among friends now."

"Need I remind you that you're the ones who shot me, not them."

"True, but that was an accident. You telling me they accidentally kidnapped you, hog tied you, and shoved you in the back of that van?"

"Ray," Brad sighed, his agitation obvious. "Leave her alone."

"I don't mind," I replied after a moment, "he has a point."

Ray looked taken aback, as if he'd never have anyone take his side. "Damn, Brad," he said as a broad smile spread across his lips, "I think we may have to keep her around."

"Don't get too excited Ray. She'll be leaving soon enough."

_Well don't sound so sad that I'm leaving_, I thought to myself.

In fact, Brad's comment couldn't have been any better timed. Just then a low roar sounded on the horizon. The outline of the helicopter was barely visible on the darkening horizon but flashing lights on its side and tail gave it away.

The doctor came over to me and motioned me to follow him.

"Guess that's my cue to leave," I sighed softly. I turned and looked at the men all standing around the humvee. "Well, it was nice to meet you guys. Especially you, Trombley."

I could see his expression change as he turned away. "Yeah, you too," he mumbled.

"Man, it's too bad you gotta leave. It would have been nice having you around," Ray nodded with a smile.

"Stay safe," was all that came from Brad, who didn't look at me, but rather past me at the oncoming helicopter.

"Thanks," I replied softly. It wasn't much, but I could tell there was more to Brad than there seemed. So I would take what I could get.

I took a deep breath and turned towards the doctor, following behind him as he led me through the company towards where they would be picking me up. I looked around, there barely being enough light to see much of anything. In that moment I realized I had been here so long, I didn't really remember what "home" looked like, even less what it felt like. I wouldn't go as far as to say this place had become my home, far from it, but I was comfortable here. I _knew_ this place, and the dangers that came with it.

As I watched the helicopter make its final leg of the journey towards us, an uneasy feeling filled the pit of my stomach that made me want to turn and run. Did I really even want to go home?

However, that decision wasn't mine to make.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN**: Sorry it has taken so long to get this up; I've been terribly busy, plus a little uninspired. But, after seeing Act of Valor, it gave me the ooh-rah boost I needed! (or I guess it would be hooyah, since it was about SEALs...) Either way, I would like to take this moment to thank evitakrishna88, VogueGirl19 (again(: ), Krosis, steelphoenix, Jen, and corbsxx for leaving reviews! They are immensely appreciated and help keep me going._

_**P.S.** It's my birthday! (3/13) So, I thought it'd be nice to give my loyal readers a present as well :) Hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter 3**

**Under Fire**

"Get down!"

"Shit man, I can't see any of em!"

"They're at your two!"

"They're fuckin' everywhere!"

I pressed my hands against the cool ground. I closed my eyes and for a second blocked out all the noise that surrounded me.

I remembered being in a room, my hands tied behind my back and my ankles tied to the legs of a chair. It was silent, except for the wet, heavy footsteps of a man who paced around the room. He would walk left, the right, then back again. The smell was overpowering.

'_You know why you're here,' he said in a deep, raspy voice. He was speaking in Arabic. 'And you know what will happen. Yet, I cannot figure out why you still fight. There is no hope. It is futile.' _

_He walked beside me and leaned next to my ear. I could feel his breath burn my skin as he said in a heavy accent in broken English, 'No resist. You die now.'_

I opened my eyes as the sound of gunfire reverberated around me. It was all I could hear. I could see the men, all on the ground with their guns pointed towards the enemy, (at least where they thought the enemy was) but I could barely hear them. Their shouts were muffled by the fire coming from both sides. Now, all I could think about was how I'd ended up in this predicament.

I had been walking along with Doc towards the helicopter that was flying in to med-evac me. The sun had fully set not long ago and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. As the light faded from the horizon the wind began to pick up and the temperature dropped. I could feel the goose bumps crawl up my arms as an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach the closer we got to the chopper. I didn't know whether it was the cold or the idea of leaving that caused them.

I stood there with Doc beside me as the helicopter came in. It was close enough to where the wind from the blades threw my hair about widely, though the outline of it was only barely visible by the lights that adorned its sides. As it began its decent, it started to settle in more and more that I was actually going to be leaving. Then a bright flash of light burned to the right of where we were standing and the sound of an explosion filled the night air.

The only thing I remembered after that was falling to the ground and feeling vibrations in the earth as flaming pieces of shrapnel fell around me. That was when the assault started.

Yet now, suddenly, it had all stopped.

A silence fell over the company as the enemy stopped firing, and they did as well. The tension in the air hung like a thick wool blanket in the summer heat, suffocating.

I looked over at Brad as he stared straight ahead, as if looking away would kill him, which it very well may have. Slowly, he tilted his gun up and looked through the scope.

"See 'em?" I heard Trombley say to my left.

"Yeah," Brad whispered softly. "They're moving left. Looks like foot mobiles. Can't tell how many there are."

"Shit," I heard someone mumble.

"What the hell are you doing?" Brad spoke slowly, following their movements with his scope. "Hey, Walt," he called out after a moment.

"Yeah?" came a voice from further on my right.

"Get up on the Mark-19." He didn't move from his position, still staring down his scope. Suddenly, he pulled back while still staring ahead. "What the..."

A man, who I assumed to be Walt, had by now moved from his prone position next to Ray up to the Humvee they were hiding behind. He jumped into the car and pulled himself up to the large gun sitting at the top. He situated himself behind it as he turned it around towards where the enemy was once firing, though he sounded as if he were struggling with some part of it.

"Hey Brad," Trombley said, staring through his scope, "Do you see what I see?"

Brad looked back through the lens of his own scope. "Oh shit... everybody look out!"

A bright ball of light soared through the air, hanging in the air like a star for a moment, before turning to make its way towards us. In a split second it hit the ground and exploded, sending large amounts of debris over us. More and more of these exploded into the air and began raining down all around us. Then the gunfire started up again.

"I can seem 'em now!" Ray yelled out with a wide grin as he started firing in retaliation.

All around me the marines started firing at them.

"Walt, what the hell is going on up there?" Brad yelled up to the struggling soldier on top of the Humvee.

"It's fucking jammed again!" he yelled back, desperately trying to get it to fire. As he struggled with it a bullet ricocheted off the top of the car, causing him to have to duck down. More bullets assulted the vehicle, preventing any attempt by Walt to get back up to unjam the gun. "I can't get back up there!"

"Shit," I heard Brad curse.

I looked around at the scene before me. Most of the men were lying back behind the vehicles or crouched down beside them. They would turn at times to fire towards the enemy before recoiling back behind the safety of the Humvees. Shots were flying everywhere, bullets banking off of metal surfaces or making loud thuds as they collided with the ground. And here I lie, feeling utterly useless. I had no gun, no armor, and no way to see in the dark. I was literally dead weight, just waiting to become another casualty statistic.

As I looked up at Walt still struggling with the gun, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to think of something. Then, after a long moment, I opened them again. I knew what I could do. I looked around me until I spotted an unattended bag not far away. I carefully crawled over to it and snatched a flashlight I'd seen hanging from the side.

"Get down!"

I heard Brad's voice behind me, but I chose to ignore it. I only had one chance at this and I knew if I stopped I would most likely get shot. Again.

My feet were moving faster than I knew they could. It had been so long since I'd run anywhere. But right now, I was literally running for my life. I could barely see anything in the dark but the flashes of light from the gunfire gave me some guidance, along with the small amount of light emitted from the flashlight. However, the flashlight didn't help me much since I made sure to point it in the direction of the enemy as I ran.

I knew I had to keep running, but I didn't quite know how long to keep going. That was at least until someone stopped me.

All of a sudden I found myself hurdling towards the earth. Instinctively I put my hands out in front of me to absorb the impact, but it never came. Instead I felt my body fall against someone else. A strong arm was secured around my midsection, holding me to their chest. Before I could fully assess what had happened I was rolled over onto my stomach, my body partially coverered by whoever had pulled me down. Their arm was still around me and their body pressed mine flush to the ground.

"What the hell were you doing?" I heard the harsh voice of Sgt. Colbert say.

"Diversion," I panted, turning my head to look up at him.

"What are you-" he stopped mid-sentence powerful shots rang through the air.

We both turned back to see Walt up on the large gun, his shouts muffled by the ringing shots. The other soldiers down around the vehicles began cheering him on and joined in on the assault. A few even climbed into their own vehicles, now uninhibited from the heavy fire, and began prepping their large guns as well. In no time they managed to suppress the enemy's fire.

I sighed and turned around so that I was lying on my back. Gently, I pushed Brad's arm from around me. "You're welcome."

"I'm sorry; remind me again why it is I'd be thanking you?" I could almost taste irritation in his voice.

I flicked the flashlight's button so that it turned off. I had almost forgotten that I'd grabbed it in the first place. "For giving them time."

Brad looked forward.

"They needed something to shoot at. Up on the gun, Walt was an easy target. He would have never gotten that thing unjammed in time." I turned and looked over at him. He was still looking ahead. "Do you really think these are highly trained forces? They give some teenagers AKs and a few grenade launchers and tell them to shoot at anything with BDUs on. "

"And with this expert analysis you decided that the best plan of action would be to run across an open field with no weapon, straight into the line of fire," he turned back to look at me, "with a flashlight?"

I shrugged. "What was I supposed to do, steal Trombley's gun and turn into Rambo? Besides, what was the worst that could have happened? Getting shot again?"

He sighed in response and turned away again, looking through the scope of his weapon.

"What?"

"Having you here is bad enough but when you disobey a direct order-"

"I'm not one of your soldiers."

"Then what are you?" His voice had risen to a threatening tone as he looked back at me.

When I didn't answer, he continued. "Regardless of who you are or why you're even here, you are now in the care of the United States Marine Corps and under the jurisdiction of _my_ team. That means that you are _my _responsibility and any orders I give apply just as much to you as they do to my men." He turned away from me and looked back in the direction of the others. "Remember that the next time you decide to pull some stupid shit like that."

I felt like saying something to defend what I'd done, or at least reply in some way, but I couldn't. I found myself unable to say anything. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that he was probably right. I understood why he was so angry, and he had every right to be. But that didn't mean I would apologize for what I'd done.

After a long moment of silence between us he pushed himself up and sat back on his heels, glancing over in my direction. As he did a curious look came over his face. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

He pointed down at my leg, and I lifted myself up to see what he was pointing at. I hadn't realized it before but on my left leg, just above the knee, my pants were stained an angry red and partially torn. I _had_ in fact gotten shot again.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Hand that over," he said as he held out his hand, motioning for the flashlight, which I quickly relinquished. He bent down near my leg as he flicked the flashlight back on and held it over the wound. After a moment he sighed and shook his head.

"What is it?"

"Still can't see."

I rolled my eyes and unbuttoned my pants, gripping the sides as I began to pull them down.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he watched me warily.

"Don't worry marine, I have panties on," I replied, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. I pulled my pants down just far enough till the wound was completely exposed. I motioned him to come over with the flashlight and looked closely at it as the light illuminated the wound. "Shit," I mumbled softly. It had gone deeper than I'd fist suspected.

"I'll get Doc-"

"No," I shook my head, "I can take care of this myself." I carefully pulled up my shirt, more thankful than ever that the company was far behind us, and that it was dark. I glanced up at Brad who looked noticeably uncomfortable and confused about what I was doing. I couldn't help but let a grin form on my lips. In the back of my mind I realized that if any other officer had been here I wouldn't have felt as secure as I did now, which made me wonder why I felt so comfortable around him. Especially him.

"Can you help me?" I asked, struggling to pull my shirt up over my left shoulder.

"What exactly is it that you're trying to do?"

"Just, trust me," I sighed, "Please?"

With a roll of his eyes he put down his weapon and came over to my side. He began pulling my shirt off, conscious of my bandaged shoulder. Yet, even his careful movements weren't enough to stop my shoulder from throbbing in pain. The morphine had worn of awhile ago and the sprint I had just run didn't help either.

Once he had gotten my shirt off I turned my attention to my shoulder. I began peeling away the bandages wrapped around it until I exposed the large square of gauze underneath. I gently pulled part of it off and ripped some off that hadn't been soaked in blood.

"Can you re-wrap it?" I asked as I placed the rest of it back over my wound.

With little hesitation he set about re-wrapping my shoulder. Whenever his skin brushed against mine it sent a shiver through my body, burning against the skin that had grown cool in the night air.

"Stop," I said, my voice softer than I'd intended it to be. He stopped wrapping halfway through, returning my gaze with a curious look. "Rip the rest of it off."

He did as I'd asked, placing the excess bandage in my outstretched hand.

"Bring the light over here," I said as I bent forward and began working on my knee. I placed the gauze over top of the wound, pressing it down hard before securing it with the rest of the medical wrap. After I finished I sighed and sat back, examining my work. Now, instead of just my shoulder, there was a screaming throb of pain in both my shoulder and my leg, though my shoulder still hurt the worst.

I glanced up at Brad, who was staring down at me with an unreadable expression. "See? No need to waste supplies."

"Great. At least we know you're good at something."

"You'd be surprised what I'm good at, marine," I shot back.

"Is that so?"

"Shouldn't we be getting back?" I asked, ignoring his question as I pulled my pants back up. I carefully put on my shirt, conscious of my now less-bandaged shoulder.

"I suppose so," he sighed. He flicked off the flashlight and put it away before picking up his weapon. After a moment he looked down at me with a curious expression. "Can you walk?"

I shrugged. "Well, why don't we just find out?" As I bent forward in my attempt to get up the pain in my leg immediately screamed in defiance. I imagine he saw the look of discomfort on my face for the next moment I felt his arm secure around my waist and pull me up.

The way he had pulled me up made it so that we were now facing each other. My body was pressed against his since he still held most of my weight. As I looked up at him his deep blue eyes seemed to almost glow in the dark. "You sure you're alright?" His voice sounded soothing, almost comforting. I knew then that I must be partially delusional from all the blood loss.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," I said as I gently pushed away from him. His arm released its hold around my waist almost reluctantly. I ignored the angry protests from my wound as I put my weight back on my legs and began walking towards the marine division. Brad followed silently behind.


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: **Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Corbsxx, Colorful Raging Cancer, and even USMCKempeitai :) They were much appreciated. _

_*On another note for all those who are reading this, please try to remember that this is in first person from Sam's point of view, so she may not know everything or get everything right, even if I (or the audience) knows it. Some mistakes may be intentional. Other than that, hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter 4**

**Eye of the Tiger**

"Looks like you're riding with us beautiful!"

I turned my head and looked up at the grinning face of Ray. "What?"

"Godfather says they're not cas-evacing anyone out of this region. Since we need to continue on with our mission, and we can't just leave you out here alone, you're coming with us," Brad said as he walked passed Ray to open the passenger door.

I was sitting on the right back seat of the Humvee, leaning over so that I was fully in the shade. "Wait, so I'm riding with you guys?"

"Sure 'nough. As long as 'all marines act accordingly around our female guest'," Ray said, quoting one of the officers no doubt. "But don't worry sweetheart, we'll take good care of you."

"Somehow, that doesn't comfort me too much."

"What? We've got the best Humvee in this platoon. Hell, in this whole Goddamn country!" he said as he walked around to the driver's side, pulling himself in. "Brad's a fucking ninja out here with all his equipment and shit," he said as he motioned to all the night-ops gear and monitors they had installed. He paused for a moment as he glanced back at me, "though he's still out here looking for dragons to slay." He turned around and pulled out his glasses before slipping them on. "And then of course, there's me."

"Don't flatter yourself Ray."

"You're gonna have to look out for Trombley though," he continued, not letting Brad's words affect him. "He's one psycho motherfucker. Ain't that right Trombley?"

"Fuck yeah," Trombley nodded.

"Hey, what about me?"

"Walt, all you do is stand up there and shoot people with a big ass gun," Ray replied. "That's not something that requires too much skill."

"Man, fuck you," I heard Walt mumbled to himself.

"Alright," Brad cut in to the back-and-forth banter between the guys, "our orders are to stay on the road we're on now." Brad began pressing buttons on the monitor mounted to the dashboard, switching between maps until he found what he was looking for. "This," he said, pointing down an aerial shot of a road, "is the road we are currently on. We're to go forty klicks north," he illustrated, his finger following the line, "until we reach here." He pressed another button and the map changed to a closer view of the area. "There's a town that will be to the east of our position. And it is that town that we have been tasked to recon."

"Holy shit! You mean command actually gave us a real fucking recon mission?" Ray said in what seemed excitement, turning wide-eyed to Brad.

Brad was about to say something before he was interrupted by the radio.

"_**Hitman Two-One Actual, this is Hitman Two over."**_

He sighed and picked up the radio. "Hitman Two, this is Hitman Two One Actual. Go ahead."

"_**Interrogative, is your team ready to go?"**_

"Affirmative."

"**Alright then, let's move out."**

"Solid copy. We're moving out."

"**Hitman Two out."**

"Pack up ladies, we're Oscar Mike!" Brad yelled out of the window, hitting the side of his door.

"Right on, right on," Ray said as he strapped his helmet on and threw the Humvee into gear.

I stepped out for a moment so as to let Walt get in, but I grabbed his sleeve before he could get inside. "Hey, Walt? Is there any word on the helicopter?"

"All I heard was pilots were KIA. Dunno if anyone else was on board." He turned, about to go in, but stopped when he looked back at me. He sighed and shook his head, "Hey, don't go blamin' yourself for this. No one saw that comin'. Just, forget about it, alright?"

I nodded slowly. "No, I'm fine," I assured him, "just curious is all." He nodded and pulled himself up to the gun. Once he was up I slipped into the seat and closed the door.

Brad picked up the radio once we were all in the vehicle. "All Hitman victors, be advised, we are now Oscar Mike. I repeat we are Oscar Mike." With a nod from Brad, Ray started off, and the convoy followed behind.

I could faintly hear the men behind us; it sounding as if they were cheering, glad to finally be on the move again. However, I found myself unable to share in their excitement. I was currently stuck here in Iraq with a bunch of marines. And I was a woman. Not exactly a good combination. Plus, I had no idea what it was they were doing nor what I was expected to do (or, more probable, what I was expected _not_ to do), when I would be shipped back, or even what area I was in. I was sitting in the dark about everything with no authority to ask around about it. Not exactly a thrilling position.

I leaned back against the seat and stared out of the window for a majority of the time. I hadn't ever really looked at the countryside, but as I watched it roll by now I had to admit, Iraq was actually quite a beautiful country. The red sandstone that made up the small mountains practically glowed in the morning sunlight, like the burning embers of a fire. The tan grasses swayed gently in the breeze that swept by, and within the grasses stood trees hardened by the unforgiving climate. While sparse, they dotted the landscape with green bursts of color, announcing that life still flourished within this desert landscape.

"_Risin' up, back on the street; did my time, took my chances_."

I turned my head curiously towards Ray as I heard him begin to sing.

"_Went the distance now I'm back on my feet, just a man and his will to survive!_"

"Ray," came the ominous voice of Brad, "what did I tell you about singing songs like that?"

There was a moment of silence following his question, before Ray answered with, "_It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival! And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us all with the eeeye _(pause for dramatic effect)_ of the tiger!_"

As Ray continued signing horribly off-key, I couldn't help but feel the corners of my mouth turn up slightly. It was just so damn amusing.

"See, I knew it was only a matter of time before I got you to smile," Ray said as he turned to glance back at me. I didn't know how to take this statement, but the smug look on his face didn't ease my uncertainty. So, with a roll of my eyes, I quickly dropped my smile.

"C'mon, there's no need to be so uptight. I mean look, we're invading a country!" he said as he motioned forward. "Have some fun!"

I narrowed my eyes slightly at the back of Ray's head. This kid baffled me. I'd never met anyone quite like him before; he was definitely one of a kind. What was odd was how he seemed to fit so perfectly in this fucked-up situation, as if we invaded the country just to give him something to do. Either way, the idea that invading a country could be fun went right over my head. Not that I didn't know he was just kidding (or maybe he wasn't), but I just didn't have the mental capacity to register his brand of humor at the moment.

So once again it fell silent. The only sounds were that of the Humvees trudging along the road and the occasional shouts from the men behind us.

And in this silence I began to think about what it was we were going to do. I looked over at Ray, going back in forth in my mind whether to ask the question or just let it go. In the end, my curiosity won out. "You said you're going to recon a town, right? Is that really the kind of stuff Recon Marines do?" I quickly realized that I probably shouldn't have asked that question.

Ray immediately responded with, "No, it's not what we do! We are_ Force Reconnaissance _Marines – fucking warriors, man! And here they have us watching a bunch of Haji kids run around and play 'who's the next terrorist'. That's not even close to a real fucking recon mission! You see that?" he said, referring to two helicopters that flew over us, heading in a northeastern direction. "Those birds are flying _into _the war zone. And where are we going? In the wrong Goddamn direction, _away_ from all the action. You know what, in the opinion of this marine, fucking command probably made up this bullshit mission for the safety of the Iraqis. I mean, imagine if they'd really let us out! We are a team of heartless, bloodthirsty killers trained in the subtle art of dismembering our enemies and defiling their civilizations. If they were to actually let us out this whole fucking war would be over in a week! But, of course, Republicans would never stand for that-"

"Ray, do you ever shut the fuck up?"

"Hey, fuck you Walt!"

"But can't you-"

"Don't," I was interrupted by Brad. "It'll only encourage him."

I could sense the annoyance in his voice so I quickly stopped talking. I gathered that this must be a common occurrence, especially with Ray, but I was still curious as to what exactly it was that they were doing. I knew enough about the four basic branches of the military and its culture but I'd never actually spent time within one, especially a spec-ops unit, and I wanted to know more about it.

However, I wouldn't be getting that information anytime soon. For now I resigned to sit quietly in my seat and stare out into the desert land.

"Hey!" Walt shouted, "Looks like there're white trucks on the side of the road up ahead."

"How far?"

"I dunno… maybe two klicks? Looks like three of 'em."

Brad looked through the scope of his weapon. "Yeah, I see 'em." He turned back in and reached over to grab the radio. "This is Hitman Two-One Actual. All Hitman victors, be advised, we have three, unmarked, white victors about two klicks out, possible foot mobiles."

"**Hitman victors copy all."**

"Roger that. Interrogative, is anyone aware of our current R.O.E?"

"**Hitman Two-One Actual, this is Hitman Two Actual. That's a negative. Let me check with Godfather."**

For a moment it was completely silent. Then the crackle of the radio announced Fick's response.

"**We are not clear to engage unless they show hostile intent. I repeat, do not engage unless they show hostile intent."**

"Solid copy – do not engage unless tangos show hostile intent. Out copy." Brad sighed and placed the radio back on its holder, turning back to his weapon. "Everyone watch their sectors. And stay frosty."

As we got closer to the trucks, I could feel the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I tried to hide my unease, though there was no real need since all the guys were too focused on the road ahead. I don't know why I suddenly felt so on edge – it's not like this had been the first time I'd been in danger. But as the sun scorched the side of my arm I could hear the rhythmic pounding of my heart in my ears growing louder and louder as the white trucks grew nearer. Goosebumps began crawling their way over my arms when we were close enough to see the outline of the men standing off to the side, all turned in such a way that only half of their bodies were visible. As we moved closer they began shouting to one another, making wild jesters with their hands. I vaguely heard someone in the car utter a warning but it became muddled in the ever-growing volume of voices. In the corner of my eye I spotted a man sitting in the bed of a truck who was leaning back ever so slowly the closer we got. His arm was reaching further and further into the depths of the bed until all I could see was him looking up at us with only one eye. I drew in a quick breath and parted my lips.

Then we were past them.

I released a breath I didn't know I was holding. It was as if a balloon had just been deflated; you could feel the tension leave the Humvee once the trucks became distant white mounds in the side-view mirrors.

"Did y'all see all those electronic lookin' things in the back of that one truck?"

"Yeah, looked like C-4 to me."

"One of 'em had an AK in the back."

"Man, hostile intent my ass; we shoulda lit 'em up."

"Fuckin' A," I heard Trombley mumble next to me. The men in the Humvees behind us were all yelling back and forth to one another about how they should have been allowed to take those men out. I could only catch bits and pieces of what they were saying but I got the gist of it pretty quickly.

"Watch your sectors. We're not out of this yet," Brad said without ever looking up from his scope.

"Brad," Ray began after a moment, "we're in Iraq. We'll never be out of this."

"Ray, concentrate on driving please."

"I mean think about it – we're invading a big-ass, fucking desert country that half our platoon didn't even get maps for, because if we actually knew where we were going then of course the terrorists would kills us."

"How exactly?" I tentatively asked.

"If they know all of the roads that we know, then they could set up ambushes along all of those roads. But if we don't know where we're going, then they can't know where we're going. But since they don't know where we're going, then they set up IEDs and ambushes along, like, every road. So now every road will be booby-trapped all because fucking command can't give us the necessary shit we need to effectively invade this God-forsaken country!"

Brad looked away from his weapon for a moment to turn and look at Ray. "You done?"

Ray glanced at him and shrugged. "For now."

"Good. Now take a left on the next road up ahead."

"Oh, you mean the road that leads into the tall grass that is just perfect for an ambush? Of course. What other road could we possibly go down?" Reluctantly, however, Ray did as he was told.

"The town should be down here soon," Brad said after a moment.

I took a deep breath and pressed my palms against the top of my legs.

"Hold on, hold on," Brad said as he adjusted himself in his seat, propping up his weapon. "I got movement at my three."

"See! This is exactly what I'm talking ab-"

"Shh," Brad whispered harshly to silence Ray. There was a long silence before he spoke again. "Trombley, you got anything over there?"

"Nothin' Sarge," he replied instantly.

"Walt?"

"Same. I got nothin'."

I could see the end of his rifle following whatever he was saw. I pushed myself to the edge of the seat, leaning my head ever so slightly out of the window, trying to see what he was looking at. I scoured the tan sea of grass, waves moving about by the wind. In the midst of all the movement I saw the tops of some of the stalks suddenly jerk by an unseen force. My senses perked up and I was about to announce that I saw what he was looking at until I caught the flash of a black streak go by.

"It's just a dog," Brad said as he pulled away from the window.

"Damn homes," Ray grinned as he looked over at Brad, giving him a nod, "eye of the tiger."

"Why didn't you shoot it?"

"For the millionth time Trombley, we don't shoot dogs – we shoot people."

"I woulda shot 'im," he mumbled.

"Don't worry Trombley," Ray said reassuringly, "we'll find you some dogs to shoot soon enough. Or maybe a camel or two."

He turned towards Ray with what looked to be a hopeful expression on his face. "Promise?"

"Of course! Would your dear ol' pal Ray ever lie to you?"

"Well… yeah, actually."

"What? After all I've done for you, _that's_ how you think of me?"

"Name one thing you've ever done for me."

"Well, _for starters_, how about the time I saved your ass-"

"Whoa, when the hell have you ever saved me from _anything_-"

"If you'd let me finish-"

"Enough you two," Brad cut in. "That's the town up ahead. Drive to that hill; we'll set up up there."

"Aye-aye, captain," Ray said, punctuating the statement with a salute. Brad didn't seem to take notice. Instead, he picked up the radio an announced that we had arrived at our destination.


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN**: Thank you to corbsxx__, Colorful Raging Cancer, Librangen, and gillybean83 for your reviews! Hope you all enjoy. _

**Ch. 5**

**Q & A**

Four hours had passed since we first set up and nothing had really happened. I spent most of my time sitting in the Humvee, the door open and my feet hanging out, pulling on the frayed string from my pants where I'd gotten shot. Brad, Ray, Trombley, and someone named Espera were sitting up on the hill, situated so that they were hidden from view. Walt had stayed back with me, taking this time to work on cleaning his weapon.

"What exactly are they doing?"

"Watching the town."

"For what?"

"Intel," he replied as he picked up the clip and shoved it back into the gun, locking it in place. "They're lookin' to see if there are any Jihadist forces hidin' out here, or somethin' that just don't seem right." He placed the weapon upright against the side of the truck. He was sitting on the ground beside me, leaning back against the Humvee. "See those two?" he said, pointing out two men lying on the hill away from the others, but just as hidden.

I nodded.

"They're sketching out the buildings, makin' notes of all the windows and doors. Just in case we need to make an assault; they got us covered."

"Why would you need to make an assault?"

"In case they see us and retaliate, or there's a major threat. Plus, we got other teams rollin' through here. Once we clear the town we'll put it out on the radio, let other units know it's clear."

"And the rest of them?" I asked, gesturing to the rest of the team that was spread out along the ridge.

He shrugged, "Dunno what all of them are doing. Some I know are restin' up. Word is we got a mission for tonight, and we're running ahundred percent watch."

"That means everyone has to be up?"

"Yep."

"How do they decide who sleeps when there isn't a full watch?"

"Depends. Some people catch shut-eye whenever they can, like now. When we have to stay up for watches, usually it's whoever hasn't slept in the longest time. We're pretty useless if we're runnin' on empty, but it's hard to catch sleep out here. Some of us are pretty useless regardless," he replied, mumbling the last part.

I could feel the corners of my mouth turn up at that. "So, the Ripped Fuel?"

"You noticed Ray's addiction to that shit, huh? Yeah, that's to keep us awake, but he eats 'em like they're candy." He began shaking his head as he took off his helmet, "Side-effects are the worst. He never shuts up when he's on it."

"Fuuuck," the perfectly timed voice of Ray chimed in as he walked over to us, followed close behind by Espera. "This _so_ fuckin' boring."

"I see your point," I smiled at Walt.

He shook his head. "That right there – that's just him."

Ray sat down on the other side of me, resting his weapon up against the tire. Espera leaned against the side of the Humvee on the other side of Ray, but remained standing.

"You guys see anything up there?" Walt asked as he looked up at the two.

"Naw, dog," Espera shook his head, "just a bunch of women and children."

"Obviously these guys are a major threat to our invasion of this country," Ray suddenly went off. "I swear Command makes up these bullshit missions just to torture us. I mean really, what the fuck has this town got to do with anything? What terrorist activity could possibly be going on? But I swear they're cookin' up some shit in this one back building."

"Like drugs?" I inquired.

Espera suddenly grinned at my question and nodded. "Yeah, you'd be surprised. These motherfuckers got drug cartels fuckin' Mexicans couldn't match up to."

"And you guys don't do anything about it?"

"Naw, we don't mess with that stuff."

" 'We're not here to fuck with their livelihoods,' as Brad likes to say," Ray chimed in.

"We find guns, bombs, shit like that – yeah, we'll take 'em out," Espera continued, "but nothing like that. We ain't the Iraqi police force."

"Hey Walt, you got any Pop-tarts on you?" Ray cut in.

"Naw man, I think Trombley took the last one."

"Fucking Goddamn Trombley! He always takes all the good shit!"

"Here," Walt said with slight laugh to his voice as he handed an MRE over me to Ray.

"Pound cake? Really?"

Walt shrugged. "All we got."

With a sigh he snatched the bag and ripped open the top. "So, what's your deal anyways?"

"What?"

"You know, why were you all bound up and shit? Not the average person just gets kidnapped in Iraq. Come on, there has to be a reason you're here."

"Well yeah," I began slowly, "of course there was a reason."

Ray rolled his eyes at my response. "_And_? Come on, spill," he said, the last part muffled from the food in his mouth.

I sighed and leaned against the seat.

"You know, it is kinda weird that you're here," Walt began, "You from H & S company or somethin'?"

"Fuckin' POGs," Ray grumbled, "Can't even keep track of their own people."

"No," I shook my head, taking a deep breath. "I'm not in the military."

"So, what, you some kinda peace-keeping missionary, come here to save all of the heathens?"

I rolled my eyes at Ray's comment. "No, far from what I was doing."

"Come on then, spill."

I looked down at Walt, who had the face of a pleading child. The fact that he actually had a somewhat childish face didn't help either, because it was one of those faces that was impossible to resist. "I was on a mission here," I finally began, "and, needless to say, it didn't end well."

"A mission? What are you Black Ops?" Ray chimed in.

"Dog, do you even think before you speak?" Espera said, looking down at Ray disapprovingly.

"Fuck you," was Ray's response.

"No," I continued, despite their bickering. "My team was working on gaining more intel about a possible Fedayeen stronghold, just north of Baghdad. We were tracking a man thought to be the leader of this Jihadist militant group. Now, the reason we were after him in particular was because he just so happens to be related to and supplied by a very well known weapons dealer. This dealer has been around for awhile – we believe he was the man responsible for arming the Iraqis during the Gulf War. As a result, he has massive clout in Saddam's government. We believe that Saddam may be using his underground ties to collect the material he needs to make WMDs without it showing up on the radar, but we haven't confirmed that yet. We _thought_ this dealer could also be our lead into finding the location of the WMDs-"

"Wait wait wait, hold on," Ray said, holding his hand up to stop me. After a pause he looked up at me and said, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

I sighed and tried to re-iterate what I'd just said, but Walt cut me off before I could. "Wait, they really have WMDs here?"

"No," I shook my head, "we're not sure yet."

"How can y'all not be sure? Isn't that the whole reason we invaded this country?"

"Who the fuck is we!" Ray practically shouted.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew I shouldn't have started talking about this, but I also knew I wouldn't be able to avoid the subject forever. Since my hope that I would be taken back before it came to the forefront of their curiosity was gone, and I still had no idea how long it would be before that happened (at the current moment, it seemed like I would be stuck with them for their entire tour), I simply gave in. I could have lied to them, made up some kind of story, but for some reason that didn't feel right. I felt as if I owed them at least some sort of truth.

"I work for the CIA, and I was on a mission here with my partner."

"Whoa," Walt whispered. "You're CIA?"

I nodded. "We were close to making a deal with the head of the Jihadist group when things went south. I don't know all of what happened, but at the moment I made a choice – if I stayed back, and allowed myself to get captured, he could get away with the intel we needed."

"And he left you, just like that?" Espera asked with a tone of amazement.

"No, I had to practically force him to leave without me. But to the agency I was just collateral damage – all they care about is getting what they need."

"So, are they even looking for you?" Ray inquired.

I shrugged. "I doubt it. I presume they think I'm dead at this point." I almost laughed as I thought about the idea of them sending out a search team for me. "To be honest, I could stay out here with you guys for months and it wouldn't make a difference. No one's waiting for me back home."

"That's messed up," Walt said, shaking his head as he looked over at his fellow marines. "If any of my brothers out here went missing like that, shit, I would go through hell and high water to get him back."

"Ooh-rah, dog," Espera nodded. "Shit, all we got out here is each other. No little Haji's gonna stop me from gettin' my man back. Even if it is this little whiskey tango fuck," he said as he nodded down at Ray.

"Aw, Poke, you fuckin' beaner, you always know just what to say to touch my heart," Ray said as he looked up at him with a huge smile. "I'd take a bullet for you any day homes."

I smiled as they began to joke around with each other. I admired the camaraderie these guys all had for each other – in the agency, it was a different story. Even though my partner and I had a close bond, seeing as our lives were pretty much in each other's hands, that feeling was rarely shared with anyone else I worked with. It always felt like they were just trying to find ways to one up each other, constantly competing for higher positions. And since they moved us around so much, we never really got to form close bonds. What I hated the most, though, was just how replaceable agents were. At times it seemed as if they expected you to die on a mission, so back-ups were readily available. Out here, as I looked between the faces of Walt, Ray, and Espera, I didn't get any of those feelings.

"What are you girls doin'?" Brad said as he walked over to us.

"Just learnin' that our girl here is CIA," Espera responded.

"Is that so?" Brad said, sounding less than impressed.

"It is," I replied, my smile faltering. I didn't know what it was, but for some reason Brad just knew how to get under my skin.

"Then, uh, tell me – how is that you got captured again?" he said as leaned against opened door of the Humvee, directly in front of me.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Isn't there something that you should be doing, Sergeant?"

"What? Besides keeping your crazy ass in check?"

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't know I was assigned a babysitter."

"With the way you act, we'll need the whole fuckin' platoon to keep you out of trouble."

"What?" A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips, "Am I too much for a little 'ol marine to handle on his own?"

He raised his eyebrow before casually turning his head with a shrug. "I'm pretty sure you'd be easy enough."

There was an audible 'ooh' that came from the men around me. I glared daggers at him – this marine was barking up the wrong tree. However, I wasn't one to give in that easily. Two can play at this game. I sat up straight, lacing my fingers together as I rested them on my knees, eyes narrowing with a look of defiant determination. "Willing to put your money where your mouth is?"

"Easiest bet I ever took," he replied, grinning ear-to-ear.

"Oh my God! Will you two just do it already!" Ray yelled. "I can't take all of this sexual tension while trying to get the one and only meal I will enjoy today!"

I rolled my eyes and sat back in my seat. I happened to glance up at Brad and, for a moment, our eyes met. Never, in a million years, would anything ever happen between us.

"Hey, we got Hajis at my nine," Espera said as he looked around the Humvee to his left. "Foot mobiles – three men, a woman and a little girl. Looks like they're just walkin' back to the town."

"They comin' this way?"

"Directly towards us dog. And they don't look too happy."

"You wouldn't be either if you saw a bunch of armored trucks sitting on your lawn," Ray chimed in.

"Ray, call it in. See if we can get Meesh out here," Brad said as he pushed away from the door.

I carefully slipped out of my seat, walking around Ray and Espera to see who they were talking about, but a hand grasped my arm and stopped me.

"Stay here," Brad commanded in a stern voice, his blue eyes piercing into mine. "Walt, don't let her out of your sight," he said without ever breaking eye contact.

I glared slightly at him as he dropped his hand and began walking towards the group. In a huff I turned around, heading back to my seat in the Humvee, but stopped short. I looked down at Walt for a moment then nudged him lightly with my boot. "Hey, get up."

"What for? Brad told you to stay here, so you're staying here."

"Oh, come on. I promise not to do anything – I just want to see the town. No harm in that, is there?"

He rolled his eyes. "Somehow I feel like you'll find a way to make it harmful."

"Well, I'm tired of just sitting around. I hope you know that I'm going either way – with, or without you," I said as I began walking up to the ridge.

I grinned as I heard him shuffle to his feet and jog up next to me. "You just don't give up, do you?"

"One of my better qualities I'm told," I smiled up at him.

"Girl," he shook his head, "you're going to get me into so much trouble."

"Why follow me then? Just take me back."

"You make it sound _so_ easy." He shook his head, "Naw, I think it's easier just to follow when it comes to you."

"Oh," I said as I turned around to face him, walking up the ridge backwards, "so now I'm the one who gets to play leader."

"Not so fast," he said as he reached out to stop me, turning me to the left. "I still know a few more things than you." He gently pushed me forward, leading me towards a small patch of scrub that was tall enough to provide cover. "Why do you wanna see it anyways?" he asked as we kneeled down.

I shrugged. "I dunno, just curious I guess. Get to see how the other half lives."

"Not much to see," he sighed.

"Well, that's your opinion."

I laid out flat on my stomach, resting my chin on my palm. A slight breeze blew the grasses in front of me about lazily. Of what I could see, most of the "town" was just a large collection of houses. In the distance there were a few bigger buildings, but none where of substantial architectural design. Everything was beige, blending in with the pallid desert background. It was hard to tell where one house began and another ended.

Out in front of the line of houses were a group of kids, running around and kicking a soccer ball. It was hard to tell if they were playing an actual game or not. One of them seemed to dominate the others, keeping the ball to himself with a series of intricate moves: tip the ball with his foot, fake left, spin right. In a matter of seconds, he effortlessly danced passed all of his opponents – all but one. This kid had a sturdy look of determination on his face. His stance broadened, hands held out to his sides as he looked his opposition dead in the eyes, watching his every move. Mr. Cocky only grinned at this scrawny kid's attempt to thwart him. There was a long moment when none of them moved; they stood almost completely still, sizing each other up. That was until a shrill female voice cut through the air, breaking the silence. With one swift motion he juked the poor kid easily, leaving him sprawled across the earth, parading off with his hands in the air as if he'd won. The boy on the ground quickly turned onto his back, a smile plastered on his face as he yelled to the victor, "_You got me, OK? You got me!_"

"What are you smiling at?"

I turned my head to Walt briefly before looking back at the kids, who had started playing again, this time actually passing the ball to one another. "The kids."

"What, the ones playing soccer?"

I nodded.

There a distinct pause before he turned to me and asked, "What's so interesting about them?"

I shrugged, turning my smile on him. "You see anything else going on out here?"

"Well, yeah… you've got that group of guys sitting over there. Not the elderly ones, they can't be up to anything, but the middle-aged ones. See 'em? They're talkin' 'bout somethin', Iunno what though. The one with the red keffiyeh is definitely pissed at the one across from him – looks like they're 'bout to fight. And that building over there, see it? With the antenna on the top? There are about 6 guys on the top level, two walked in the first, and two on the roof. I think they're tryin' to fix somethin'. And that street vendor, just across that road; see him? He's pissed off at the little boy 'cause he keeps stealing his stuff." He paused for a moment and looked over at me, taking in the dumbfounded expression I'm sure I displayed plainly. This caused a huge grin to spread across his face. "Gotta look at the bigger picture girl."

"Mm." I really didn't know what else to say. To say the least, his answer took me completely off guard. "Um, so, keffiyeh?"

"Yeah," he chuckled lightly, more to himself than anything. "You know, that thing the guys wear on their heads – the checkered cloth?"

"Where did you learn that?"

He shrugged. "I think you underestimate how boring it can get out here."

"Apparently." I went back to looking down at the kids playing, but now I couldn't keep my eyes from drifting over to the other people meandering about. However, my powers of deduction weren't quite up to par with Walt's. All I managed to pick up was that the kid the vendor was chasing around was acting as a distraction so that another could sneak up and steal more of his goods.

I glanced back at where the others were, wondering what they were up to. I noticed a few of them standing around the group we had seen coming towards us, looking as if they were discussing something. I noticed that there was what looked to be one of the marines at the center of the discussion, going back and forth between the two parties. Then I remembered that Brad had said something about needing a guy named Meesh. "Hey Walt, who's this Meesh guy?"

A deep sigh escaped him before he answered. "He's our translator."

"Do I sense a hint of animosity in that tone?" I asked as I looked over at him.

He shook his head. "Most of the time, I'm not sure if he's working for us, or for them," he said, nodding his head toward the town. "I swear, half the shit he tells us is bullshit. But he's all we have."

"You couldn't get another translator?"

"It's not exactly like we got to pick."

"Fair enough," I nodded. I glanced back at the convoy before nudging Walt. "Come on, let's get back before Brad notices I'm gone and has a hissy fit."

Obediently, Walt followed behind as we made our way back to the team.


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN:** __Thank you to brijane_, gillybean83, and corbsxx for leaving reviews, and to everyone else for reading!

**Chapter 6**

**Sunsets of Fire**

"Where have you two been?" Ray greeted us, unable to keep the suggestive tone from the question.

I rolled my eyes but let it pass. "Up on the ridge; I wanted to see the town. What have you been up to?"

"_Nothing_, like usual. But," he said with a grin, pulling out at least seven packs of MREs, "I did manage to score some goodies while you guys were gone. Please, hold your applause. You can thank me later."

"Dude, how'd you get all these?" Walt asked as he walked up to the pile wide-eyed, sifting through to see what the contents held.

"Won a bet with Baptista," he replied as he reached back into the pile and grabbed a pack, tossing it over to me.

"Should I even ask?" Walt said, glancing up at Ray.

I looked inside the bag he had tossed me since it had already been opened, and I quickly figured out why. Inside was nothing but the desert portion of an MRE – there were Skittles, pound cake, Tootsie Rolls, and what looked to be some form of cookies. "Really?"

His grin widened as I looked up at him. "What? I thought you might like a treat. Besides, you need to get some meat on those bones. You'll have to toughen up if you wanna survive out here."

Before I could respond a packet hit him over the head from Walt's direction. "Do you ever even think before you speak?"

They continued to bicker amongst themselves, so I decided to leave them be. I took the Skittles out of the bag and tore them open, popping a few in my mouth as I walked around to the other side of the Humvee. When I looked up, there was the group of Iraqis who had wandered over to us, along with Brad, a guy I'd been told was Lt. Fick, and a shorter guy who looked to have distinct Middle-Eastern features. I assumed him to be the translator, and, despite his military clothing, quickly realized that he wasn't an actual marine, just the wolf in sheep's clothing.

I was about to turn back around when I noticed a little girl in the group clinging to her mother. She was tiny and had a somewhat starved appearance. Her large, copper brown eyes looked around at the men before her, staring in wonder and fear.

I glanced at Brad, who was too occupied in whatever the men were talking about to notice me. I went back and forth in my mind, knowing I should just walk away and ignore them like he'd instructed me to do. I turned around with that exact intention in my mind, but something pulled at my heart and I turned back. With a quick glance at Brad, I quietly made my way over to them. Thankfully, the little girl and her mother were standing off away from the men a bit, so my presence wasn't immediately noticed.

I stopped a little ways before her, waiting until she took notice of me. For a moment she almost looked frightened, but her gaze quickly turned to one of curiosity. I slowly walked over to her, kneeling down to her level once I reached her. She gripped the fabric of her mother's clothes and hid further behind her.

"Hey," I spoke softly, smiling in hopes to ease her fears, "it's OK. _No need to be scared._" When she heard me speak in Arabic, her face lit up. She inched out slowly, though she made sure to keep a safe enough distance.

By now, her mother had taken notice of me. When I looked up at her, I was slightly surprised to see how young she was. She couldn't have been more than 22. "_May I?_" I asked, holding out the Skittles bag for her to see. Though she looked down at me with a wary expression, she gave a simple nod as a response.

"_Thank you._" I smiled to her before turning back to the little girl, who, by now, had walked almost completely out from behind her mother. I eagerly held out the bag of Skittles, encouraging her to come help herself. "_Come on, take some. They're really good."_

She glanced back at her mother for a moment before taking the two steps required to reach me. Slowly, she held out her hand, and I dutifully dispensed the little treats into her palm. For a long moment she just stood there and stared at them. "_Colorful_," she finally spoke in the tiniest voice, poking at them with her finger.

"_Yeah_," I said as I felt my smile spread further over my features. Her voice reminded me of cotton candy – soft and sweet. "_The colors mean different flavors_."

With a bit of hesitation, she picked one up and placed it in her mouth. Her eyes lit up like fire. In a matter of seconds, all of the tiny treats were gone from her hand, and she held it out for more. I couldn't help but laugh at this – she was just too cute. Obediently, I handed her more, and once again they were gone in a matter of seconds. "_You like?_"

She nodded her head fiercely, bringing the first smile I'd seen from her to her lips.

"_Here,_" I said as I held out the bag, "_have the rest_."

She carefully took the bag and dispensed the rest into her hand. For a moment she paused, then she held her palm out to her mother. Her mother simply shook her head and pushed her hand back to the girl. "_They are for you. Eat them, my dear_." Without argument, the little girl devoured the rest of the Skittles herself.

I was slightly surprised when her mother spoke, but before I had time to process my thoughts I was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. I didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.

"What are you doing?" Brad's voice was stern yet low, presumably so as not to startle them.

"I know," I sighed, "I was supposed to stay back with the guys. But, in my defense, I wasn't _trying_ to look for you guys; I sorta just stumbled upon you. I had every intention of turning back, but then I saw her and, well, how can you turn away from that?" I finished, gesturing towards the little girl. I now realized that she had gone back behind her mother, a scared look on her face as she stared up at Brad. "Great. Now look what you've done – scared the poor girl away."

"Not my problem. Come on, we don't have time for this humanitarian stuff."

"Are you always like this?" I asked as I looked up at him.

"Are you always this difficult?"

"I try to be."

"Careful," he shook his head, "you're on thin ice."

I grinned, "Good thing I'm an excellent swimmer."

A deep sigh was his only response, and I rolled my eyes; he was no fun. I reached up and pulled him down so that he was kneeling next to me. I then went into the bag and pulled out a few Tootsie Rolls, holding them out for him to take. "Just try it."

Reluctantly, he opened his hand and allowed me to place them in his palm. With my nudge of encouragement, he held them out for her to take.

She walked a few steps toward us, but stopped short. She still looked at him in a distrustful manner.

"Try smiling," I suggested. He glanced at me with what can only be described as a death glare. Nevertheless, when he turned back to her, the corners of his lips pulled up as he flashed his pearly whites. Despite myself, I couldn't help but laugh at his attempt. "_Don't worry_," I said to the girl, correcting my language this time, "_he won't hurt you. I promise_."

She looked between me and him, which, with him still attempting a smile and me giggling about it, I'm sure was a sight to see. In the end, she must have deemed it safe enough for she closed the distance between us and reached out to take the candy.

"_So_," I began as I looked over at the little girl, "_what's your name?_"

"_Nazan_," she replied timidly after finishing her first Tootsie Roll.

"_Nazan. That's a pretty name. My name is Sam, and this here is my friend Brad,"_ I said, nodding beside me. "_Don't worry about him. Trust me – his bark is a lot worse than his bite."_ This made her giggle as she looked over at Brad. I smiled over at him, though he looked at us both questioningly. "Don't worry," I assured him, "I'm telling her only nice things." I then turned back to little girl, continuing with the conversation. "_So Nazan, tell me, how old are you?_"

"_I'm eight!_" she announced proudly.

"_Wow, eight? You're growing up now, aren't you? Do you go to school?_"

She shook her head slowly.

"_No? So what do you do during the day?_"

"_Usually I help mommy around the house._"

"_Do you like helping your mommy?_"

She nodded, biting her lip through her smile. "_She teaches me a lot._" She then turned her attention to Brad, eyeing him with curiosity. After a long moment, as if building up courage within her, she soundlessly walked over to him and stopped about a foot from him. Slowly, she reached her hand out and gently placed it on his helmet, tracing over the patterns. "_What's this?_" she asked as she began running her fingers over the plastic piece in the front.

"_Um, I'm pretty sure that's to hold their night vision goggles, so they can see in the dark_," I replied with a smile. She continued to run her fingers over the patterns on his helmet, mesmerized by the intricate details. Brad bent his head down a little lower, allowing her easier access. Of all the places I'd been, I'd never wished to have a camera more than at this very moment. This image was priceless.

"_Nazan! Come!_" her mother yelled to her, bringing us all back to reality.

She turned towards her mother and simultaneously dropped her hand from Brad's helmet. "_Goodbye my friends_," she said as she turned towards us once more. She held out one last Tootsie Roll that she'd kept in her hand, placing it in Brad's hand. "Thank you," she said in an angelic voice, giving him the tiniest of smiles before turning and running off towards her mother.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" I said, smiling over at Brad. When I looked at him, I noticed that the smile he now had on his face was a genuine one. But as he watched Nazan run back to her mother, I saw in his eyes that his mind was somewhere else. "What is it?" I asked with hesitation. My voice must have broken through his reverie when he glanced over at me, for it looked as if he just realized I was there.

"When we were in Afghanistan," he began slowly in a nostalgic tone, "the kids, they used to run out to us, run along our vehicles and cheer us on. We could play games with them, hang out with them; they celebrated us. Here, they all treat us like we're the plague." His smile had slowly disappeared as he looked down at the candy in his hand. He slipped it into his pocket before looking up at me. "Different people I guess."

"Brad," I began softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but before I could he stood up sharply.

"Come on, we should get back."

I didn't bother arguing with him this time, just stood and followed him back to the Humvee.

"By the way," he said after a long moment, "where the hell did you learn to speak Arabic?"

"Where do you think? There are a few things they taught us before sending us here. I'm sure you know what that's like," I replied, turning to look up at him. "Actually," I began again, "that's what took me off guard. Initially she spoke to me in Arabic, but then her mother spoke to her in Kurmanji."

"Kurmanji?"

"Yeah, it's a language really only used by the Kurds, but they all primarily live in northern Iraq." I turned to look at where the group had walked off to, but by now they had already made it over the ridge and would soon be reaching the town. "If they really are Kurds, then there has to be some important reason why they're this far from home."

"The men said that they were visiting their cousin who lives here," Brad replied passively.

"Odd way to enter a town, don't you think?"

He eyed me warily for a moment. "What exactly was your mission here again?"

"Ugh, Brad, we have been here _forever_!" Ray groaned as we walked over to the rest of the guys. "Please tell me we're movin' out soon."

"Don't worry Ray," Brad replied, turning his attention towards him. "We won't be here for much longer. We're just waiting on word from Godfather."

"Thank God! If I have to stay here any longer, I honestly think I might kill myself."

"Person, if you kill yourself, what motivation will the enemy have left?"

"Well, Trombley, as long as you're still around, I'm pretty sure they'll have all the motivation they need."

I smiled at the guys as they began to banter amongst themselves. I found that I've grown quite fond of listening to them go back and forth at each other; it made the long day bearable, and, at times, very entertaining. I was also very grateful that I'd managed to avoid being the center of their many jousts.

I contented to sit back for awhile and watch them go at each other. After awhile, however, the sun began to let its effects upon my exposed arms be known. The top layer grew warm and the golden glow of my skin was giving way to a slightly pinkish color. Even though the sun was going down, I decided to give my skin a break and headed over to the Humvee in search of some shade.

As I walked around the guys, I noticed a small cloud of dust rising up in the distance, just behind the convoy. I moved back, trying to get a better view of whatever it was. "Hey Brad," I said slowly as I noticed that a fairly fast moving object was the cause of all of the debris, and that it was headed straight in our direction, "what is that?"

"What is what?" he replied, walking over to where I was. By now it was closer, and, as it turned out, there were far more than one. "It looks like another unit, but I didn't get word of any others in the area. Hey, Ray," he called out as he turned back to him, "did you get any word over the radio about another unit coming in?"

"Naw, it's been pretty quiet all day," Ray shouted back, "haven't heard a word about any other units."

Brad turned back and watched as they moved in. "Shit."

Within a minute they were on us. They pulled up their vehicles, driving them right through the gaps between ours, and parked them on the crest of the hill. Before some were even fully stopped groups of men jumped out, running up to the hill. Some slid down into a prone position, others remained standing. Once up there though, they all opened fire on the town below.

"Hey! Hey! What are you doing!" Brad yelled, running over to the line of men. Ray had scrambled to his feet, jumping inside of the Humvee and snatching the radio. Walt, Trombley, Espera, and everyone else around joined in with trying to figure out just what the hell was going on.

"We have been watching this town for hours, they're harmless!" After continually ignoring him, Brad snatched one of the soldiers, turning him around to face him. "What are you guys doing? This town is nothing but women and children!"

"Sir, we're just following orders," the kid said, shaking in Brad's grasp.

He let him go, watching as the kid backed up before joining again with the others. He turned back and shouted for Ray.

Ray shook his head, throwing his hands in the air. "We don't have coms with that unit! I'm tryinna get through, but I got nothin'!"

I watched as Brad turned around, looking over the ridge at the town below. I flinched slightly as I heard one of the Mark-19s begin firing off rounds. I could hear their screams, their cries out for one another, their fear.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the noise, when I heard the shrill scream of a girl. "Nazan," I whispered softly, opening my eyes. "She… she's down there. Nazan! No!" I sprinted towards the hill, weaving my way passed all of the soldiers. I reached the top of the hill and, for a moment, froze. There were people running every which way, bodies lying strewn across the ground, more and more falling to join them. I shook my head, willing myself forward, but I never made it off the hill. Brad grabbed me from behind, pulling me back against him.

"No! You can't go."

"Let me go! Nazan is down there!" I shouted at him, writhing in his grasp. I clawed desperately at him, trying to get him to let go of me, but the more I struggled, the tighter his hold became.

"Sam, you can't go." Brad's voice was stern, yet eerily calm. "There is nothing you can do to save her now. "

"She didn't do anything! Please, please, just let me go! I can't just leave her-" my voice was cut off by an ear piercing noise that spread across the sky. In a second, two large airplanes flew in, each individually firing two rockets. As they exploded, the ground shook beneath our feet. Buildings began to fall over like dominoes as a blanket of fire cascaded down into the streets. Just as fast as they came, the planes disappeared into the horizon. All gunfire had ceased, leaving just the crackling sound of burning embers and flesh to fill the silence.

"No…" I breathed, "H-how could… Why? _Why?_"

"We didn't see what they saw," I could hear Brad's voice repeat next to my ear, "We don't know…"

My body went limp against his and I could feel his arms tighten around me. He was the only thing left holding me up.

The flames reached ever higher into the sky, dancing with the wind that passed. The heat began to burn my skin as a slow rain of ash began falling all around us. The sun had just begun to set, spreading an orange and red glow across the horizon. It seemed as if all the earth had been set aflame.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thank you so much to caught-offsides, Librangen, gillybean83, corbsxx, and Ever Autumn 13 for leaving reviews! (and also the mysterious E - though I may never know who you are, I still appreciate you taking the time to review :) Much love to you all! **

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

Cold

All my life, I always thought everything happened for a reason. I was just that 'the glass is half full' kind of girl. But now, everything was backwards. I couldn't see any reason in this.

He told me this would happen. I don't remember when, where I was, what we were doing – but I remember what he said.

"_You're young, you're new. You'll figure it out in time. This gig ain't all what it's cracked up to be. You start out thinkin' you're gonna save the world; defend our country against all the evils out there. But, after a while, you begin to realize that everyone's the same. We're all the same. What, we stop them from doing something terrible, something maniacal? Naw. We stop them from doing something we've already done, or plan to do."_

"_Then why do it?" I'd asked._

"_Everybody needs a paycheck, sweetheart."_

After the sun went down, the winds shifted to a northeastern direction. The temperature dropped as the heat built up by the abundant sunlight became lost in the darkness. My short sleeve shirt did little to protect me from these bitter winds. I moved to the other side of the Humvee, hoping to alleviate some of the cold by shielding myself. However, my efforts did little to protect my exposed skin from the freezing air. For a moment, I wished the winds would blow the opposite direction, bringing the heat from the fire towards me. I immediately felt disgust course through my veins and moved back to the other side, pressing myself hard against the tire.

"You want some?" Ray asked as he stopped in front of me, holding out a bag of what must have been some sort of candy. When I didn't respond, he sighed and walked away. The guys had been trying to get me to talk for over an hour, but I didn't really feel like talking. Most of them had given up, but Ray was resilient. At one point, he was basically having a conversation with himself, albeit an interesting one, I couldn't find it in me to reciprocate. Even he'd given up after a while, only making attempts here and there.

"Hey, you doin' OK?" I heard a voice ask beside me. When I turned, I looked up to see Brad standing before me. "Guys are saying you won't talk to anyone."

_You're very perceptive, young Padawan_, I thought to myself as I stared intently at the laces of his boot. If I wouldn't talk to anyone, what would make him so special as to elicit a response from me? It also didn't help that out of everyone here, Brad just so happened to be the last person I wanted to talk to.

He sighed and leaned up against the Humvee beside me. "Sam, look; I know what happened today was-"

"Don't," I cut him off sternly. "Just don't."

"So, what, are you just going to pretend like it never happened?"

I rolled my eyes and turned away, looking over at a group of guys who were servicing their vehicle.

"I figured you'd be used to this by now," he said in a passive voice, shifting from one leg to the other as he pulled off his helmet.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked as I turned to look up at him.

He shrugged. "I mean, you said you were in the CIA right? They do shit like this all the time."

"Shit like what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

He nodded behind him, towards the town that was just firebombed.

"You've got to be kidding, right?" All of a sudden, I felt my skin burn with anger. What was he trying to get at? "That's complete bullshit! We do strategic marked hits – we take out the big players, the ring leaders – we save innocent lives every day by stopping individual terrorist attacks! We study our targets, we know them in and out, and we take them out in the most effective way with the least amount of body counts. And we do all of this under the radar, without making some grand statement by destroying entire towns." I turned my head back in the direction of the town, still able to hear the crackling of the dying fire, before turning back to him. "We leave killing innocent women and children to you Marines."

Slowly, Brad placed his helmet down in the Humvee before turning back to me. His movements were slow and deliberate, and to the untrained eye he looked completely calm. I, on the other hand, could tell that his entire body had tensed up. "You really think that's all your little organization does? Swoop in and save the world from all the bad guys out there?"

"We sure as hell don't kill innocent people."

"Oh please, don't give me that bullshit. You kill innocent people all the time."

"Like when?"

"Oh, right, because every single operation goes on without a single hitch. Because everything you guys do is performed perfectly. Tell me, how is it that you ended up here with us?"

Pressure began to build in my chest as I went to challenge this, but I felt my breath hitch in my throat. Even if I had managed to reply to his comment, he would have cut me off anyways.

"And don't even pretend like you don't kill innocent people. If there is someone in your way, I highly doubt you'll spare a second glance before taking them out."

"That is a lie-"

"And what about their families, huh? Do you ever think about that? You kill them and their families are left unprotected and alone."

"They are war criminals! We don't exactly take their domestic matters into account."

"I'm sorry, what exactly are the qualifications to get on the CIA's hit list? I'm sure some of these 'war criminals' have done nothing more than find ways to piss off some faction of your organization."

"Fuck you." I stood up, my entire body shaking with anger as I got mere inches away from the Sergeant. "You don't know a damn thing that you're talking about."

"Really? I don't? So you've never killed anyone besides a designated hit?"

"Don't."

"You've never had to watch someone that you knew was innocent die by your own hand?"

"Stop it."

"You've never laid awake at night, unable to go to sleep because you know that when you do, you'll see their face, their pain, their life slip away as they die over and over again in your mind, reminding you of what you've done."

"Stop!"

He suddenly grabbed my hand, pressing his thumb into my palm until it stopped shaking. "I think I know a little bit more than you give me credit for." He raised my hand up, opening it in front of him as if reading a book. "Killing someone is easy," he spoke in a soft voice as he studied the plane of my hand, running his thumb over the creases. "It's living with it that's the hard part." He turned and looked up at me, his bright eyes staring directly into mine. As our eyes met, I felt like a wave had hit me directly in the chest, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, the tide was pulling me under. I hated this feeling, like he was looking right through me.

I shoved him hard and pulled away from him. "Not this," I shook my head, "not this!" A gust of wind brought the burning heat of the fire to my back. "This was your doing! You talk about killing one person, and here you've leveled an entire town! All of those people-"

"Stop acting like it was our fault!" his deep voice rang out. This whole time his voice has been rather level, but all of a sudden it had taken on a threatening tone. "We had nothing to do with this! This was not my call, it was not Fick's call, it was not Godfather's call. It was an entirely different company! So don't stand there and act like you're the only victim in here."

"I'm not acting like the victim! You're the ones that stood there and did nothing! You didn't even try to stop it!"

"I did everything I could without overstepping my position!" We were once again inches from each other, neither of us backing down from the other. "The same people who give us our orders are the same people who give you yours, and they are the same people who green-lighted that attack." He took a step back, shaking his head slightly. "You know, you sit here and you accuse us for this, yet you know it's not our faults. So tell me – who is it exactly that you're so angry with?"

"I'm angry at myself!" I yelled out, suddenly taking in a sharp breath. When I finally said it out loud, it was as if it actually hit me then and there. "I'm mad at myself..." I took a step back, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before sighing.

"I shouldn't... I shouldn't have let it affect me like that. I shouldn't have gotten involved-" I stopped when I felt his hands on my cheeks, cradling my face, turning my head to look up at him. His icy blue eyes once again held mine, and it was as if the current had let up; my lungs once again filled with air.

My own eyes burned with tears that threatened to fall, but couldn't. His thumb brushed over my cheek, as if wiping away the imagined tears.

"You shouldn't be here," he finally said with a sigh, speaking in a soft voice. "This is no place for a... for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" I breathed softly, looking up at him confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He dropped his hands and stepped back, but did not break his gaze with mine.

"Brad, what are you..." I stopped and suddenly felt anger rise within me. "What, because I'm a girl, is that what you're implying?"

When he didn't answer, I rolled my eyes and shoved passed him. "You know, that's just so typical of you, of all of you! What makes you think I'm any less effective than you would be? I was trained for this job, same as you, and the fact that I excelled in certain areas deemed me the best person for the mission I was assigned." I felt him grab my forearm and turn me back to face him, but I shoved him away and ripped my arm from his grasp. "I was given orders, same as you Colbert! Same as all of you!"

"Sam, that's not what I meant-"

"Then what did you mean? Huh? 'Cause I can't see what you said meaning anything better."

"I just..." he sighed, "I just meant someone in your current situation. You're young, you can't have been doing this for more than, what, a year? Maybe two?"

"Oh," I nodded slowly, "so now my experience is what's under scrutiny here."

"I've been doing this for a lot longer than you, Sam, and I've seen a hell of a lot more than you have. I know what it can be like, what this does to a person."

"Oh, trust me. I believe you," I nodded, the corner of my lips turning up slightly. "Tell me, how many people do you have to see killed before it really starts affecting you? How many of your fellow soldiers have to get wounded, or worse, before everyone starts becoming the enemy? How many people, exactly," I began as I took a step closer to him, narrowing my eyes slightly, "do _you_ have to kill before you lose the remnants of what little emotion you had to begin with?"

I knew I'd struck a nerve with that one. I could have sworn he was going to hit me right then and there by the look on his face. It almost frightened me the way he looked at me with so much anger, but there was something more beneath that. His body had stilled, no longer tense as it was before, and after a long moment he turned and walked away. Just like that, he was gone.

Maybe I had gone too far with that last statement, I admit, but he was the one who started it.

"Damn girl, what'd you say?"

I turned, startled by the voice suddenly beside me. "Nothing, I..."

"I've never seen him get like this," Espera said, shaking his head. "You must have done something to really piss him off this time."

I rolled my eyes and turned away, walking around him back to the side of the Humvee. I glanced inside and noticed Trombley knocked out in the back seat, holding his gun against his chest as if it were a long lost lover. Ray was up front, lazily fiddling with the radio, and Walt was sleeping down on the ground. Ray glanced up at me, but didn't say anything before turning back to what he was doing. He didn't have to, though, because his eyes said it all.

"I know," I sighed softly, turning away so as not to disturb them further from the little down time they did get. I dropped down to the ground again and resigned to lean up against the side of the vehicle.

I stared out into the dark horizon, looking to where the sky met the earth, the line almost indistinguishable in the dark. It all muddled together into a dark greyish-blue. The sky itself was awash with stars, a display like I'd never seen before. The whole night sky lay above me like a map, the brightest stars marking their universe's place in the cosmos. It was times like this that I wished I'd paid attention in Astronomy. I could of course make out the North Star – that was a 'must-know' part of the training I'd gone through – but the other constellations were left untouched. For all of the ones I could name, I realized that there were very few I could actually point out. I managed to spot Orion, tracing the line of his belt before making out the rest of his body. I tilted my head slightly as I stared at the mythical man. It had always fascinated me how thousands of years ago people could look up at this jumbled collections of stars and create hundreds of characters and stories out of them.

As I continued to search the sky for more hidden shapes, I found myself dozing off. I'd managed to locate Ursa Major and Gemini before slipping off into a restless sleep.

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><p><strong>Side Note: I shall take this moment to apologize for the shortness of this chapter. It was longer, but I cut out an entire section and moved it to Ch. 8 for continuity purposes. Also, I apologize for the fact that the next chapter might take a little while to get out. I'm putting the story on a mini hiatus until I'm done with my senior year. Until next time, reviews = love!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

_**AN: **Thank you to Colorful Raging Cancer, Libragen, USMCKempeitai, corbsxx, the still very mysterious E :p, and DTaylor201989 so much for your reviews! They gave me the strength to keep going and I appreciate each and every one of them. A special shout out to Blood vs Water, thank you for reviewing, but I still hate you :p JK, I love you so much it hurts! _

_I had to move an entire section of this chapter to the next chapter, so that one should be coming out soon! Also, since I'm finally done with my senior year, I can devote more of my time to writing, so I'll try my hardest to get these chapters out sooner. Until then, reviews = love, and enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

**Oscar Mike**

"Time to wake up, princess."

I groaned and shifted over, trying to escape the voice demanding I open my eyes. When I did, however, my stiff joints protested angrily. Pain shot through my shoulder and leg, eliciting another groan from my lips, though this one was purely out of anguish. I needed to ask Doc for more meds.

"What is it?" I sighed, finally opening my eyes.

The ever-present grin of Ray's was the first sight I was met with. "Beauty sleep's over. We're movin' out."

Two days had passed since the assault on the town with relative ease. They'd completed a few other recon missions here and there, but most of our time was spent either idling around or driving to a new area, which also meant a lot of listening to Ray singing and going off about whatever new conspiracy he could come up with. Yesterday it had been the grooming standard, and the day before that it was the ancient equipment they had to use and how Command was trying to "mind-fuck" them. The longer the tangent went on, the more aggravated Brad tended to get, and the more entertaining it became. Even Trombley got in on one of his accusations, much to everyone's dismay.

Suffice it to say, Brad and I hadn't talked much these last couple of days. It seemed he spoke to me only out of necessity. When he did speak to me, however, he appeared indifferent; I didn't sense any amount of animosity in his tone. To be honest, it almost looked like he was just ignoring me.

"Where are we going?" I asked sleepily, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the sudden influx of light to my retinas.

"Hell if I know," he shrugged. "I'm just the driver. Now come on."

"Thanks Ray," I mumbled as I slipped out of the backseat and followed him over to the others.

They were all standing around a group of officers who were giving details about what they would be doing. From what I could gather, we were all to head east towards their next task—setting up a road block. Once they got to the checkpoint, they would be setting up alongside another company, helping them hold several roads.

When they gave the timeframe for the mission, I shifted uncomfortably. _Two days? Two whole days!_ OK, so it wasn't two _entire_ days, but still, this meant I'd have to spend an extended period of time stuck in the Humvee with the glorious band of misfits. Don't get me wrong; traveling with them wasn't all bad. When they actively had something to do, they were all usually alert and on guard, performing their duties accordingly, with Ray's occasional snide comments. The problem arose when we were merely moving from one place to another with nothing to do along the way. Ray would no doubt be signing, Trombley complaining, Walt making comments on Ray's and Trombley's ramblings, and Brad either sitting silently up at the front or reprimanding the others for their actions.

Once they were done, everyone dispersed and headed back to their respective Humvees. I took this chance to peek over to where Brad was. He was standing with Fick, talking about something I couldn't decipher. I skillfully slinked my way around the other soldiers, getting close enough to the two so that I could hear what they were saying, yet positioned so that they wouldn't see me.

"Do you know if they're getting her outta here anytime soon?"

"No, I don't. From what I've heard, most of the units are tied up around Baghdad. They can't spare any right now."

With a sigh, Brad nodded. "Alright."

"If anything comes up, I'll let you know."

They briefly exchanged formalities before parting ways.

I bit my lip and turned, walking back towards the Humvee. Well, it was official; nothing had changed since the first day I'd ended up with them. Brad still wanted me gone, probably more so now than ever. Not that I'd been expecting him to want me to stay, especially after our fight, but he didn't have to be so damned adamant about making sure I left as soon as possible. I'd managed to get on the good side of most of the guys; Walt even admitted that he'd miss me when I left, though he wouldn't miss all the trouble I'd been getting him in. I'd promised him I would try to behave until then, but he knew better and simply smiled at the gesture.

Yet, even now, after hearing Brad's attempt to ship me out, I knew I had to apologize to him. For the past two days the words I'd said to him kept playing over and over in my head. I was angry, I still was for that matter, but I knew that I was out of line. I closed my eyes and tried to shake the memory from my head. Whenever my thoughts drifted to the fight, I was always left with the image of him right before he left, and the look he had on his face. His eyes were cold and distant, as if purposefully proving my accusations true. It still causes a shiver to run through me when I think of it.

"Hey, you alright?" I heard the soothing voice of Walt beside me, breaking me from my reverie.

"Um, yeah," I nodded, forcing a smile to my lips. "Do you know where Doc is? My shoulder is starting to hurt again."

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes seemingly assessing mine for something. "Yeah," he finally sighed, nodding his head behind me, "he's over there."

"Thanks," I smiled once again, turning and heading off to where he'd directed me.

Before he would give me more meds, Doc insisted on re-bandaging my wound. I complied without argument, and watched with amusement as the guys tried to gather nonchalantly around me, since the task required that I take off my shirt. Thankfully, it was managed without requiring the removal of my bra, the disappointment evident on all of their faces.

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my lips as Doc shook his head at all of them. "Animals," he grumbled as he slowly inserted the needle into my arm, providing sweet relief from my pain. "You should be doing this more often," he suddenly said in a scolding tone.

"What, the drugs or the bandages?"

"Both."

I shrugged. "Don't see the point; I don't want you wasting supplies on me. What if one of these guys gets seriously hurt and needs them? Besides, I can handle the pain."

He raised his eyebrow as he slowly pulled the needle out of my arm.

"Mostly," I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"It's not wasting supplies—you needed medical attention," he sighed as he began checking over my bandages, "and I'm required to provide you with it."

"So it's not from the kindness of your heart?" I ask, my tone feigning hurt.

"Besides, it was our fault you got into this," he continued, ignoring my comment. "It's the least we can do."

"What the hell is going on here?"

Both of us looked up as Brad walked towards us. From the expression on his face, I could tell he wasn't too happy.

I shifted slightly. "Doc's just re-bandaging my wound," I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

"And you thought now would be the best time?" he said as he stopped in front of us, his voice reflecting his agitation. "Out here?"

I looked around for a moment, my eyes scanning over the convoy of vehicles sitting out in the open and the various groups of men meandering about, before looking back up at him. "I'm sorry, is there a better place for this to happen?"

"Preferably not in front of my men. We're moving out, and you," he paused, his eyes scanning over my body, though they lingered on my bandaged shoulder, "are distracting them."

"All of them?" I asked before I could stop myself. His head turned up and his eyes met mine, and suddenly it felt like a wave was washing over me again, robbing me of the precious air in my lungs.

"Done," Doc announced, bringing us both back.

"Here," Brad said as he picked up my discarded shirt and held it out for me. I took it from his hand, feeling suddenly self-conscious about being topless, especially in front of him. "Get back to the Humvee," he said as he turned to leave. "Oh," he began, stopping in his tracks to turn back, "and, um, try to keep your clothes on from now on, OK?"

I could feel my cheeks burn as I yanked my shirt back down, my arm no longer hindered by the pain. I glared at him as I stood, seeing the hint of a smirk on his lips before he turned and walked away.

"What're you doin' girl?" Doc mumbled, shaking his head as he watched Brad walk away.

I turned back to him, confusion evident in my expression. "What are you talking about?"

"I've never seen the Iceman like this. Ever." He glanced up at me before he began putting all of his supplies away. "You've got some kinda hold on 'im girl."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't have any sort of 'hold on him'; if anything, I would call it the exact opposite. "You don't know what you're talking about. I'm pretty sure he hates me right now."

"Whatever you say," he shrugged.

I shook my head and was about to head back but stopped and turned back to Doc. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

He glanced up at me warily for a moment. "Sure, what is it?"

"Why do you guys call him 'Iceman'?"

A brief smile passed his lips, a rare expression for Doc, before he answered. "Just a nickname; think he got it back in Afghanistan. He's smart, competent in all sorts of military strategies, plus he's always able to remain calm in combat situations."

"Oh." My mind flashed momentarily back to the night the town was attacked, and how he handled that situation. "Yeah, I guess I can see that. Thanks again," I said, referring to my shoulder.

"Don't mention it. Come to me if you have any problems, OK?"

"Will do," I smiled with a nod before heading back to the guys.

"Look who has decided to grace us with her presence."

I sneered at Brad's comment and climbed into the back of the Humvee.

"Is the lady ready to leave now?"

"You done?" I glared at him as I slammed the door closed.

A grin spread across his lips in reply before he turned and climbed into his own seat. "Alright gentlemen, let's go! Pack it up, we're Oscar Mike!"

At his command, everyone finished putting everything away and climbed up into the vehicle. Walt gave me a sideways smile before climbing to the gun up top. After giving the command over the radio once everyone was squared away, we began our journey once more.

I leaned my head against the door, staring out the window as the world passed by, all meshing together into one giant beige blur. Hours slipped away quietly, no noise but the occasional crackle of the radio, the crunch of earth beneath the tires, and the low hum of the engine. I closed my eyes after a while, hoping to catch up on the sleep I was denied earlier. I did manage to fall asleep, but I wasn't sure for how long.

When I woke again, it was still rather quiet; no one was talking. I shifted slightly and turned to look out the window, watching as a few farmers walked leisurely behind a herd of goats.

"Hey!" a voice suddenly broke the silence. "Welcome back to the land of the living!"

I turned my head towards Ray, who glanced back with a broad smile. "Hey," I replied softly, returning his smile with my own. "How long was I out for?"

He shrugged. "A few hours; most of the day, I'd say."

_Most of the day?_ I looked out the window and realized that the sun was hanging low in the sky. "I was out for that long?"

"Yup. Had Trombley worried over there—thought you were dead."

"Did I miss anything?" I asked curiously.

"Corporal Person almost hit a bunch of civilians," Trombley piped up, looking up towards Ray with a sly grin.

"Fuck off, Trombley! I did not! I was nowhere near them! Besides, it would be their fault if I did. You see a giant-ass Humvee coming towards you for like ten minutes and you're natural instinct is to stay on the road? Fuck that! They would have deserved to get hit."

Trombley laughed, a very self-satisfied grin now spread across his lips.

"Don't act like you're the only one. You see, Sam, Trombley over here almost shot a _very_ threatening tire—"

"Hey! It wasn't a tire!"

"Oh, you're right, I'm sorry. It must have been those giant rubber inner tubes they keep around for all the watering sports they partake in. In fact, I'm pretty sure there's a water park around here somewhere—"

"Cut it out you two," Brad sighed. "Ray, focus. We can't afford to miss that turn."

Very quickly, Ray stopped talking, and once again silence fell over us. I sighed, resigning to sit back in my seat and not ask any further questions, afraid that if I did I'd upset Brad further. I took note of his tone when he spoke; he sounded apprehensive about something, but I couldn't guess what.

I turned my head and stared out of the window, noticing that the landscape had changed from a sub-Saharan terrain to somewhat of a grassland. Or, at least that's what I'd equate it to. There were also a few more hills and valleys breaking the horizon than before. All of this was bathed in a soft golden light from the setting sun, and I was once again taken aback by how beautiful this country could actually be.

As I watched the taller grass sway gently in the wind, a flash of light caught my attention. I blinked, wondering if it was just my eyes, but then spotted it again. I immediately sat up and began scrutinizing the area, trying to locate the source of the flashing light. I managed to pinpoint it to the top of a low-lying building I hadn't noticed before. It almost looked like it was carved into the landscape, hiding discretely behind a small hill that carried the same shade as the outside of the building.

"Hey Brad," I spoke softly, shifting forward in my seat.

"What?"

I could hear the tension in his voice, but chose to ignore it. "You see that building over there?"

"Where?"

"At your four."

I saw him glance back at me before turning to look off into the distance. I merely rolled my eyes at his expression. "Yeah, I see it."

"Can you see what's on the roof?"

Brad pulled up his weapon, turning towards the building as he looked through his scope, adjusting it a few times. "It looks like..."

I looked down as I noticed a sudden shift in the grass. I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a better look as I leaned further out of the window.

"It's a guy." Brad pulled back, staring ahead without the aid of his scope. "There's a guy on the roof."

"Brad, at your two," I said, more forcefully than I'd intended. "In the grass."

He shifted again, turning back to where I'd said. He picked up his gun and looked through the scope once more. "Shit," he cursed under his breath. "There are men in the bushes," he announced, his voice suddenly taking on its authoritative tone. "Walt, Trombley, watch your sectors for any movement. Ray, call it in. And Sam," he turned and glanced up at me for a moment before looking back down through his scope, "stay down."

After he was done giving out orders, three evenly timed shots rang out from his gun. A moment of silence passed before he repeated this action. Then, as if the flood gates had been opened, gunfire went off all around us.

I pressed myself into the back of the seat, making sure my head was completely behind the frame of the door. I could hear the clang of bullets hitting the door beside me, making me press even further back into my seat. God, I hated not having a gun.

"Ray, get us out of here!" Brad yelled through the fire.

"I'm trying!" Exasperated, he threw his hands up. "The fuckin' road's blocked, I gotta find another way out!"

"Well hurry!"

All of a sudden, a barrage of bullets began assaulting the vehicle on the passenger side. Brad cursed as he was forced to pull back. Every time he would move to scope out the assailants, more bullets would ricochet off the siding.

"Walt! You got anything up there?"

"I'm taking too much fire!" he yelled in reply. He, too, was dodging an array of bullets targeting him. I heard him curse as he fell back from the gun, seemingly tripping backwards, though he caught himself and got back up to the turret.

I took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly, just enough to peek out and see what was happening. I scanned over the area, watching rounds streak through the air from both the ground and the Humvees. The entire convoy was taking hits at this point, as well as fervently returning fire.

"Sam, I thought I told you—"

"Down there, at your three," I interrupted him, nodding to indicate their location. "There're two of 'em beside the boulder."

With slight hesitation, Brad lifted his gun and instantly scoped out to two, taking them out with perfectly aimed shots.

"Just above them, on the left. See 'em?"

"Got 'em," he replied, taking out three more without hesitation.

Just as the incoming fire began to ease up, the Humvee suddenly lurched forward and a cheer rang out from Ray. "Got it! Now let's get the fuck outta here!"

Within seconds we were driving clear of the enemy's fire, leaving them behind with the setting sun.

"What the hell was that back there?" Trombley said after the sounds of gunfire had all but completely faded away into the distance.

"An ambush," Brad sighed as he picked up the radio, checking in with the other units.

"Holy shit, you were amazing back there Sam," Ray grinned broadly as he looked back at me. "Who knew you'd actually come in handy!"

"Thanks Ray," I mumbled, rolling my eyes at him, though a small smile found its way to my lips.

"Looks like Brad's not the only one with the eye of the tiger now, huh? Better watch out," he said, turning to Brad once he finished on the radio, "girl's givin' you a run for your money."

I couldn't see what Brad did, but Ray's grin only grew wider before he turned back to the road ahead. Brad then glanced back at me, our eyes meeting for a moment as he gave me a curt nod. "Good work back there."

I smiled in response, nodding back. "You weren't too bad yourself, Colbert." I swore I saw a grin touch his lips before falling, his face returning to its usual, serious expression as he faced forwards once more.

I turned and looked around for a moment, glancing at the minor damages that had been inflicted due to the incoming fire. As my eyes wandered around the interior, inspecting it for any major damages, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.

"Shit," I gasped, "Walt, you got hit!" The back of his pants around his right knee were stained a deep red, the material torn slightly from the impact of the bullet.

"What?" Walt said, as if just realizing the comment was meant for him. "Oh, it's nothing—don't worry about it. Just grazed the skin is all. I'll have Doc look at it later."

"You sure?" I asked, my voice laced with anxiety. From where I sat, it didn't look too good.

"Yeah," he nodded, giving me a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

I looked up at him apprehensively, but conceded to let it go when he gave me that look. Brad turned back as well, but Walt did the same in reassuring him that nothing was wrong, though with a little less effort than he took with me.

"Take the turn up here," Brad said to Ray as they began setting up their night vision, darkness quickly descending upon us. "We'll be stopping within a few miles, making sure everyone's OK, and resting up for the night. We're up all tomorrow," he said as he glanced back at us, "so make sure you guys get as much sleep as you can tonight."


	9. Chapter 9

_**AN:** Thank you to casper22, Libragen, the Guest who I shall (unfortunately) never know, and the Misterious E (with a very colorful review :p) for all of your reviews! I loved and appreciated them all, and it is for you that this early chapter is dedicated. _

_Happy Fourth of July everyone! I would like to ask, especially considering the content of this story, that you take a moment to appreciate those who continue to fight and risk their lives so that we can keep celebrating this holiday and what it represents. For those of you not American natives, it is still the 4th, so happy fourth! _

_Hope you enjoy :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

**Moving Forward**

"I've told you a million times already, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes! It's just a scratch. I'll be fine."

"It's a lot deeper than 'just a scratch', Walt."

"Since when did you become a doctor?" he grumbled as he moved down from the gun where I'd made him stand so I could better inspect his wound. He sat down beside me, Trombley having gotten out pretty much the moment we'd stopped for the night.

"I have a little experience of my own," I grinned up at him.

He shifted back so that he was leaning against the door with his body turned towards me, and his demeanor reflecting that of a petulant child. His expression softened just a bit, however, at my words. "Yeah... how are you doin'?"

I shook my head. "I was just teasing, Walt. I'm fine. Mostly just sore. You sure you'll be OK?"

He nodded, rolling his eyes as he answered. "You worry too much. You always been like this?"

I shrugged. "I guess... I just don't like to see my friends hurt, that's all."

"You get into trouble a lot? With what you do?"

I smiled briefly up at him. "Not if we do it right."

"So this last job you were on..." he said, leaving the end of the sentence open.

I sighed, tearing my gaze away from his. "Pretty obvious it didn't go according to plan, isn't it?"

"But that guy you said you were with, your partner? He get away?"

A sad smile touched my lips. "I'd like to think so."

Walt shifted forward slightly. "What happened to_ you_?" he asked after a short pause.

I finally turned to look up at him, my eyes meeting his bright, ever-curious ones. "Walt, I—"

"Hey, make sure you get some shut-eye," Fick nodded to Walt as he walked by. "We need everybody up and at their best tomorrow night."

"Sure thing Lieutenant," Walt nodded.

"I'll let you get some sleep," I said as I slipped out of the Humvee so that he could stretch out in the back, closing the door behind me.

"Sam, I—"

"Goodnight Walt." I flashed him a smile before turning and pressing my back against the side of the vehicle. I heard his sigh as he resigned to do as he was told and lay back across the seats.

I slowly slid down the side until I was sitting on the ground, leaning back against the door. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to suppress the shiver that ran down my spine. Since the sun went down, it was getting progressively colder. I'd noticed over the past couple of days that the temperature had been dropping a little more every night. Since I had little more than a short-sleeved shirt to cover me, I was beginning to worry.

I let these thoughts drift to the back of my mind as I, too, attempted to sleep. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift into an uneasy sleep. However, it didn't take long for the freezing night air to burn against my skin and wake me up.

"Shit," I cursed as I tried to move. I hadn't realized how stiff my joints were. I gently tried to pull myself up but quickly gave up on that venture when both my arm and leg protested, a throbbing ache radiating from both of them. Thankfully, no pain accompanied it, and I found myself glad that I'd gotten drugs from Doc earlier.

I sighed and resigned to stay where I was. I idly wondered what time it was and cursed the fact that I didn't have a watch. It was still pitch-black outside and even colder than before.

I crossed my arms over my chest and drew my knees up in an attempt to preserve precious body heat. As the winds picked up, goose bumps spread across my skin. I began to shiver uncontrollably, causing pain to shoot through my leg with each jerky movement, making me regret not asking for him to treat the wound on my leg along with my shoulder. I bit my lip hard, trying to ignore the pain and focus on even the smallest feeling of warmth.

A languid sigh passed my lips as I felt some kind of stiff fabric envelope me in warmth. I leaned back against the vehicle and slowly opened my eyes, staring up at none other than Brad. He was staring back at me with a blank expression, though his eyes held a hint of amusement. As I looked at him I noticed he was no longer wearing his jacket and quickly realized that that was what was now keeping me warm.

"What is this for?" I began in a soft, fatigued voice.

"You looked like you needed it."

"No," I shook my head, pulling it off and holding it up to him, "you take it. You need it more than I do."

He shook his head as he turned and sat down next to me. "No, keep it. I'll be fine."

I looked over at him warily as he leaned his head back against the door. My eyes traveled over his exposed arms, which had just begun to show the beginnings of goose bumps.

"No, I won't have you freezing to death out here," I shook my head. I took off his jacket and looked up at him, a sly grin forming on my lips as an idea formed inside my head. I moved over to him and I threw my leg over his, settling myself into his lap. I spread the jacket out over my back and laid against his chest so that the jacket would be covering both our exposed top halves.

"There," I sighed, wrapping my arms around his waist, "now we're both covered."

I could feel his chest rise and fall with laughter, allowing the corners of my lips to turn up slightly. _Thank God_ I mused internally. The gesture was either hit or miss—either he'd be amused by it, or kill me for it. I was glad it turned out to be the former.

"You're a very resourceful young woman." I felt his arms slip fully beneath the jacket and wrap themselves around my waist. "I'm pretty sure you're keeping me warmer than the jacket was, anyways."

"Glad to know I'm of some use," I mumbled against his chest.

"Yeah, you have kind of been dead weight."

I lightly hit his side, once again feeling his laughter through his chest. "Really? Even after today, you still think I'm dead weight?"

I could feel him shrug against me. "I'm sure we would have made it out without you."

"Oh, I severely doubt that, Colbert," I said as I pushed myself up so that I could look down at him. "Without me, you guys would have been gunned down back there, _completely_ helpless."

"Is that so?" he said, tilting his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. "Well then, aren't we just the luckiest bunch of Marines out here to have such a perceptive CIA operative on our team."

My smile faltered subtly as he said that, but I didn't give him time to notice. "I do believe you are."

"Good to see you're in a better spirit," he commented dryly.

I tilted my head to the side slightly, furrowing my brow in confusion. "From what?"

"The attack, a few days ago," he replied, his voice reserved.

_Oh yeah_, I thought to myself, _that_. I closed my eyes, trying to forget the memories of that day, of what had happened. Yet, as I tried to keep those memories from resurfacing, my thoughts drifted to the fight we'd had just a few days before. I felt my stomach churn as the harsh words I'd said to him, especially the accusation I'd made basically calling him heartless, replayed in my head. I knew I had to apologize. Every fiber in my being was screaming at me to do so, but some small part of my subconscious held me back, worried that if I brought it up now it would ruin this very rare moment when we weren't at each other's throats.

Even with this thought in mind, I knew I had to do it. Building up every ounce of courage I possessed, and shoving that little inkling to the far corners of my mind, I willed myself to say it.

"I'm sorry."

My eyes opened wide and I sat back, staring up at him in silent surprise. Why was _he_ apologizing? "Wh-what? Why? For what?"

"What I said to you the other day. I didn't mean to rile you up like that." He paused before looking up at me. "It wasn't my place to assume I know what you've gone through."

Well, this was a surprise. It took a moment to recover from this sudden turn of events and recollect my thoughts before I was able to reply. "Brad, you shouldn't be the one apologizing. You_ know_ you shouldn't be, so I have no idea why you are."

"Because I owe you an apology," he said matter-of-factly. "After what had happened, you were—"

I held my hand up to stop him. "Don't," I shook my head. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I had no right to attack you like that. It was way out of line, and you were just trying to help."

"Didn't do a very good job, did I?"

A small smile pulled at the corner of my lips. "It's not like I blame you. You're a marine." I sat up, squaring my shoulders, "_Force Reconnaissance Marine_," I said in my best impersonation of Ray, managing to pull an amused smile from him. "It's not exactly in your repertoire. I don't think warm and fuzzy feelings are part of the Marine Corps training regimen."

A smile lingered on his lips for a moment before slowly fading, his face darkening into an emotion I couldn't decipher.

"Do you honestly believe I've lost all remnants of my emotions?"

Well, I definitely wasn't expecting that question. I tore my eyes away from his, staring down at my hands resting at his waist. "Brad... Look, I was really angry. I was just saying those things because..." _Because I wanted someone else to be in as much pain as I was, and you seemed like you hadn't been affected at all_. I closed my eyes, unable to say what I was thinking out loud. "No, Brad, I don't," I shook my head, finally able to look back up at him. "I saw that, with how you were with Nazan, I saw how much you cared—"

I stopped suddenly when I saw his eyes flash with anger and what looked like a hint of pain. As my blue eyes stared into his, it was as if the tide had let out, and suddenly it all became clear. I remembered him talking about being back in Afghanistan, how he was with the kids, and how it was here. For a fleeting moment, as I stared into his eyes, it was as if I was looking straight through him. _That's _why he was so calm, why he's so detached from all of this. It's how he deals with it, with everything he's seen and done_. The further you distance yourself from the flame, the less likely you are to get burned._ The words my father had said to me so long ago suddenly flooded my thoughts as I stared at this man.

"Brad." The whispered word left my lips before I realized it had.

Slowly, I reached my hand up towards his cheek, but felt his wrap around my wrist, halting its ascent. "Don't," he said, his tone reflecting mine from nights before. He closed his eyes and let my hand fall from his grasp. "Just... don't."

I sat back, looking down at my hands that were once again resting on his abdomen. I wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him from the pain I knew he held inside, but held back.

"You know... you were mostly right," I began in a quiet voice, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

"About?" he asked, his voice now taking on a curious tone.

"Those things you said the other day, about me, about what I do..." I took a deep breath. "You were right." There. I said it. I admitted that I was wrong, and as much as I hated it, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

I peeked up at him, expecting a grin to be spread across his face, but was pleasantly surprised to see there wasn't one. "What? No gloating?"

A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he shook his head. "How about, from now, we don't assume we know what the other person's gone through. Agreed?"

I returned his smile, feeling the mood between us lift considerably. "Agreed."

The weight of the past couple of days suddenly hit me hard, and the fatigue from lack of sleep began pulling me down. I laid down against his chest, resting my head on his shoulder as I wrapped my arms around him once more. "What are you doing up anyways?"

I felt him shrug against me. "Couldn't sleep."

"Well, go to sleep," I mumbled softly. "From what I hear, you're going to need it."

I felt him pull the jacket up over us once more before wrapping his arms around me. "Yes ma'am."

The corners of my lips pulled up into a small smile as I finally drifted away into a warm, restful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

_**AN:** Hey! Sorry it's been so long since the last update, but there has been a lot of things happening lately and this has been sorta put on hold for a little while. Hopefully things will begin to simmer down now and I'll be able to update more frequently. _

_As always, I would like to thank Colorful Raging Cancer, Librangen, casper22, LeMiSo, The Mysterious E, and Jamie for all of your lovely reviews! They have definitely been inspiring me to keep writing lately. Oh, and I have finally gotten back to replying to all of your reviews; sorry about the lapse when I didn't. Unfortunately, I still cannot reply to guest reviews, but know that I still love you all just as equally!_

_Hope you enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

**Live Wire**

I groaned as something woke me up, though I couldn't tell what it was. When I opened my eyes I was met with the broad chest of Sgt. Brad Colbert, and the events of last night came flooding back to me. I glanced up at him, his face bathed in the early morning light, highlighting his soft features. A small smile passed my lips as I nuzzled my head against him, closing my eyes once more. I was way too comfortable to move, and besides, I didn't want to wake Brad. He looked so at peace while he slept.

What felt like less than a minute later, I sensed a presence around me. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and turned to see what it was. Directly behind us stood a group of marines; among them I noticed Walt, Espera, Garza, Lilley, Rudy, and a few others, but front and center stood Ray with the biggest shit-eating grin I'd ever seen.

"No," I groaned, turning back and burying my head in Brad's chest. I pulled the jacket up to cover my head, effectively hiding my face. "I'm not dealing with this."

This must have woken Brad, who I felt move beneath me. He took in a deep breath and then must have opened his eyes because his entire body stilled beneath mine. "There something wrong?" I heard him say in a frigid tone.

I gasped as I felt a hand grab my ankle, and before I knew it I was dragged off of Brad and onto the hard ground. "Nope," I heard Ray say behind me as he let my ankle go, "still both clothed. You owe me, Espera."

I flipped over onto my back, staring up Ray as he grinned down at both of us. "May we all now bask in the glorious presence of Sergeant Brad Colbert, whom you all may better know as the Iceman, for it is only _this_ man," he paused as he held out his hand, motioning towards Brad, "_the_ Iceman, who could, in the barren, pussy-lacking, fuck-butt of a country that is Iraq, have a _beautiful_," he paused once again to look down at me, "if you don't mind me saying," he said, as if asking my permission, before continuing, "woman draped across his depraved body, and not give into the heat of the moment and try to score a lil' action." Suddenly, applause broke out among the group, along with a few cheers and crude comments. "Congratulations, sir," Ray said as he bowed ceremoniously before Brad. "You _are_ the Iceman."

I could feel my cheeks heat up as I glanced at Brad who held a slight grin on his lips, though it quickly faltered when he looked over at me. My embarrassment quickly gave way as I turned to Ray, a deep glare setting into my features. I pushed my body up, hooking my right foot behind Ray's knee and twisting so that my left foot collided with his hip, effectively forcing him to slam to the ground. I heard him cry out as his body collided with the earth, curling up from the pain of impact.

Slowly I stood, dusting myself off before looking down at him. "Fuck off, Person," I said as I turned and walked away from them, heading to the other side of the Humvee. A small, satisfied smile touched my lips as I heard another cheer ring up from the guys in the group, knowing full-well it was for me.

After a few minutes, Brad came around to where I was standing. "You OK?" I heard him ask as he stopped in front of me.

I looked up at him, my eyes narrowing as they met his.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," he said defensively. "I didn't do anything."

"Exactly," I mumbled as I jerked opened the door, turning to climb in.

"Hey," he said, his voice making me stop and turn to look at him, "look at the bright side." A slow grin spread across his lips. "I bet Ray won't try to fuck with you anymore."

I couldn't stop the small smile that formed at his comment. "And if he does, he'll get a taste of what I can really do."

"See, that's the spirit," he smiled before turning to opened the passenger-side door, climbing in himself. "Alright boys, let's go! We're Oscar Mike!"

I, too, climbed inside, situating myself in my normal seat. Walt grinned at me as he climbed in while Trombley looked bewildered. He hadn't been there this morning, thankfully, since they had managed to wake him up only a couple of minutes ago. Ray climbed in slowly, pulling out his sunglasses before slipping them on. He stayed quiet, never looking back at me.

"We ready to go?" Brad asked, turning to Ray.

"Ready as ever," he replied simply.

"Alright then, let's go." Once Brad called in to the other units, we were off once more.

The ride was much quieter today, seeing as Ray seemed to be in no mood to talk. There were a few conversations over the course of the day, but most of it was set in silence.

However, I did manage to discover that this was just one stop on a much longer journey. We were also making our way toward a town called Ar-Ramadi. It was situated along the Euphrates River, 70 miles west of Baghdad. We'd have to cross the Euphrates to get to it, however, and the bridge we'd be using wasn't exactly known to be the safest.

_Just great_, I'd thought to myself with a sigh, _another chance to get shot at_. Though, after being with them for this past week, I'd started to get used to being shot at. I guess it just came with the territory.

Just as the sun was about to set, we arrived at our destination. The other team was already there, spread out amongst three different roads. Once we caught up with their leader, we divided up our units accordingly as well.

"Stay here," Brad said, addressing me as he and the others got out. While they all went off to help set up, Brad walked over to my side of the vehicle. "We're only here for tonight, and I would rather not have you distracting anyone."

"Distract them how, exactly?"

Brad gave me a stern look that made me roll my eyes. "Fine," I sighed dramatically, "keep me locked up like a caged dog. But I can't make any promises I won't tear up the house while you're gone."

A slow grin formed on his lips. "Stay," he commanded as he reached out and opened the door, allowing me the throw my legs out, though I stayed obediently within the Humvee. "Good girl," he smiled when I didn't attempt to get out. "Daddy'll be back soon. Behave."

I stuck my tongue out at him in protest—not the most mature thing, I'll admit, but it felt good either way. A wicked grin spread across his lips as I did so, causing something to stir deep inside of me.

"How about this," he began as he took a step closer to me, leaning casually against the door, "if you manage to behave while we're gone, I'll give you a reward when we get back."

Now he had my undivided attention. I leaned forward slightly, intrigued by this offer. "What kind of _reward_?"

"You'll find out once you get it—_if_ you get it."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're not very good at making deals, you know that?"

"But you're curious now, aren't you?" His grin only spread further when I didn't respond. "Thought so. Be a good girl until I get back, would ya?" And with that, he turned and left.

I huffed and fell back onto the seat, kicking the door lightly out of frustration. That man was going to drive me insane. "Two can play at that game, Mr. Colbert," I mumbled to myself as I let my mind run wild with ways I could get him back for this.

The night progressed slowly, especially since I was stuck with nothing to do. In the background I'd heard a few warning shots fired, but it didn't sound like anything serious had happened. Further away, along another road they were holding, there had been a minute or so of gunfire, and I idly wondered what had happened there.

The sun had long since set, the moon now the only source of light to see by, at least for me. I'd sat up and inched over to the edge of my seat, allowing my feet to touch the ground in silent rebellion. Almost everyone was up with the units holding the road, although a few men lingered around the vehicles, most on radios keeping in contact with the others. I caught a few things over the radio about the status of what was going on, but most of what they were saying was in lingo beyond my comprehension.

"Well well, what do we have here?"

I looked up at the unfamiliar voice to see three men coming towards me. I didn't recognize any of them, so I figured they must have been from the other unit.

"Holy shit! Raines wasn't kidding; they really got a girl with 'em!"

"The things I could do to her right now—"

"Hey!" one of the guys who I noticed sported a tattoo snaking up his neck spoke up, silencing the other two, "let's show the lady some respect."

All three of them stopped in front of me, their eyes visibly scanning me over. "I'm Owen," the guy who'd first spoken, their self-proclaimed leader, said as he gestured to himself. He was fairly tall and all muscle underneath his uniform, judging by its snug fit. With his blond hair and green eyes, he could easily pull off the all-American boy look. "That's Cole," he went on, introducing the guy to his right, "and this here is Shark," he introduced the guy to his left with a wide grin, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

Cole was taller than Owen but he had a much more slight build and donned thick-rimmed glasses that accentuated his square face. The man who Owen had introduced as 'Shark' was a stark contrast to the two. He was extremely tan with dark hair and dark eyes, and from what I could make out in the dim light there were a plethora of tattoos peeking out from the outskirts of his uniform, much more than the one I'd originally seen.

"Shark?" I inquired, looking up at him curiously.

"Nickname."

From the tone of his answer, I didn't venture further.

"Do you have a name, sweetheart?" Owen piped up, an achingly sweet smile on his lips.

As I looked over these three, I internally rolled my eyes. "Laura," I provided smoothly.

"Laura, huh? I like that name."

_Congratulations,_ I thought to myself. _Want a prize? _

"Hey, tell me," Cole spoke up, breaking me from my thoughts, "how is it a girl such as yourself ends up all the way out here?"

"And with these idiots," Owen added, assumingly referring to Bravo Company.

I ran my fingers through my hair, surprised it didn't have more tangles in it. "I'm a news reporter. I came here to cover a story about one of the troops and the heroic actions they'd taken during an attack on a civilian population by insurgents, but a day before we were set to come home we were taken hostage. These guys found me a few days later when they came in and attacked... wherever we were."

"Holy shit, no way! You were taken hostage?" Cole said in a surprised voice.

"I can't even imagine what they did to you..." Owen said, his eyes once again scanning over me.

"How did you get out?" Shark suddenly asked, his tone flat and even unlike the other two as his eyes searched mine.

I turned to him, now my turn to scrutinize his expression. "I slipped out," I finally said, unable to divulge anything from his look.

"Just like that? Your captors didn't have anything to say about it?"

"When all hell broke loose, they were a bit distracted, and I managed to get out where the guys could see me," I continued as if explaining something to a child. "Once they... realized my situation, I guess, they got me over to them and have been trying to get me home since."

"You managed to get out of there scott-free?"

"Hey, lay off," Cole suddenly spoke up. "She's been through a lot. No need to interrogate her."

Owen must have noticed a change in the air because he quickly slapped Shark on his shoulder once again, dispelling the tension. "Don't mind 'ol Shark here, I'm sure he's just curious as to how we can get a girl of our own to entertain us out here."

"Entertain you?"

He shrugged. "Gets lonely out here with all of us guys, if you know what I mean," he said, punctuating his statement with a wink.

"No," I replied, visibly rolling my eyes, "I don't."

"Want to find out?"

"Excuse me," came a voice from my right, all of us turning to see who it was, "is there a problem here?"

There was almost an instant reaction from all of them at this man's presence. They straightened up, their bodies tensing slightly as they dutifully turned fully towards him.

"Uh, n-no sir," Owen stammered. "We were just—"

"Not doing your jobs?" he finished for them. "Go back to your posts," he said when they didn't reply, his voice dripping with authority. "Now."

Three 'yes sir's sounded before they walked off in unison.

"I'm sorry about them," he said as he walked over to me, standing where they had been just moments ago. "I hope they didn't bother you too much."

"I can take care of myself," I shrugged. As I looked up at this man, I noticed that he was older than the three that had just walked away; I couldn't say by how much, but I knew it wasn't much. His eyes reflected a light shade of either green or blue, and I couldn't tell whether his hair was light brown or dirty blond in the light. His facial features were hard-set and well defined, and I had to admit to myself that, for all intents and purposes, he was rather attractive.

"From what I could hear, I can tell," he said with a smile that softened his features. "I admire a fighting spirit in a woman. I'm Will, by the way," he said as he held out his hand, which I dutifully shook. "Laura, right?"

I nodded in answer.

"So tell me, Laura, what is it you really do?"

I wrinkled my brow in confusion. "What do you mean? You heard what I said to the others."

"Come on," he shook his head, a grin spreading across his lips. "There's no need to lie. I've watched you here with them, and with all the gunfire going on in the background—you never once flinched."

"I'm used to gunshots," I challenged. "My dad's a hunter, taught me how to shoot when I was a kid."

"And there you go with more lies." He shook his head, but his grin never left. "Daddy didn't teach his little girl in a warzone. You don't look even the least bit tense, like you're used to this. I can tell you, I've seen plenty of civilians, some of us military guys even, come through here and they look like they're preparing to get shot at every second."

A small smile spread across my lips at his accusations. I had to give him credit for that one.

"Look at that, she can smile," he teased.

"And what is it that you do?" I asked, changing the subject.

He paused for a moment, as if he were about to say something else, but resigned to answer my question. "I am currently the leader of an EOD unit."

"EOD?"

"Explosive Ordnance Disposal," he elaborated. "Basically, we find IEDs," he paused as glanced up at me, "improvised explosive devices."

I rolled my eyes, "OK, _that_ one I actually knew."

His smile returned as he continued, "we find them and dismantle them. Keep them from going 'boom'."

I rolled my eyes again, but couldn't keep the smile from my lips. "And if you don't?"

"Hence the 'currently' status," he said with an unreadable expression crossing his features. "I'm replacing their former leader—was killed by an IED in Baghdad."

"Oh," I nodded slowly. As I thought about what he did, though, it made more sense in my mind. His job was filled with tense situations and the threat of death at any moment, so it's understandable that he could pick up on the tension others felt. It also seemed somewhat of a necessity given that people's demeanor could give away if there was some threat in the immediate vicinity, such as an IED.

"But you're not in charge of them," I said, pointing back to where the other's had been, "so what's with all of that?"

He glanced back to where the three guys had walked off before turning back to face me. "You are very perceptive as well, young lady. I believe I have met my match," he said, matching my newly formed grin with his own. "I _am_ a higher rank than them, but you're right, I'm not in charge of them. I figure they're all just afraid of me."

"Afraid of you?" I inquired with a raise of my eyebrow, crossing my arms in disbelief. "Somehow, I find that hard to believe."

"What?" he said as he took a step towards me, his face taking on a more serious expression. "Am I not intimidating?"

I stared up at him, looking into his eyes. On the surface, this look would be intimidating as any, but as I searched deeper I noticed a softness in his eyes, yet at the same time a darkness that demanded to keep attachments at bay. I realized that I knew that look from somewhere else, and it didn't take me long to place it. I bit my lip as I shook my head, erasing the idea from my thoughts. "Not in the least."

He suddenly clutched his chest as if he'd been shot. "Wow. That one... that one actually hurt a little bit."

I tried, but failed miserably to contain my laughter at his gesture. "Sorry, it's just that I've been around much, much more intimidating men."

"Is that so?" he said, a smile now spreading across his features. "What with you being a reporter and all, I can only imagine the type of men you're used to."

"Oh, trust me; you have no idea." I don't know what compelled me, but at that moment I looked away from him, turning my gaze to the right. As if on cue, my eyes instantly met with a pair of bright blue ones, causing me to freeze, my smile faltering.

"What is it?" Will asked, noticing my change in demeanor. His eyes followed mine until he, too, realized who was standing there. "Ah, Sergeant Colbert. Long time no see, eh?"

"Sergeant James," Brad glanced at him, his tone devoid of even the slightest hint of happiness at seeing him, before turning back to me. "Is there a reason for your visit?"

"Just saving your girl from the idiots in my company," he shrugged. "They were messin' with her—"

"I was fine," I interrupted. "I can take care of myself."

"As was duly noted," he grinned up at me before turning back to Brad. "You really shouldn't leave her alone back here with our guys walking around."

"You seem to have little faith in your men," he mumbled as he walked over to us, standing so that he was somewhat between me and Will, turned so that he was facing him.

He shrugged casually again, though I could tell that Brad's gesture was noted. "Just being realistic is all."

There was a long moment of silence that passed between us as both men stared each other down, waiting for the other to make a move. They almost looked like they were sizing each other up, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were two seconds from fighting each other right then and there.

"I think I can take it from here," Brad finally spoke up, breaking the silence but doing little to ease the palpable tension in the air.

"If you say so," Will casually replied. He turned to me and smiled, giving a curt nod, though the mischievous glint in his eyes did not go unnoticed by me. "It was nice meeting you Laura."

"You too," I smiled back.

Once he was far enough away, Brad slowly turned around to face me.

"What?"

He shook his head slowly as he walked over to the passenger door and opened it. "I ask you to do one thing..." he mumbled as he placed something in the seat.

"Don't even think about making this out to be my fault," I warned as I slipped out of my seat, closing the door as I turned to face him. "It's not like I asked those three guys to come over here and interrogate me, nor did I ask Will to come bail me out—"

"I thought you said you didn't need any help," he said as he closed his door, turning to look down at me, his arms crossed over his chest.

I narrowed my eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Do I?" he countered, matching my expression with his own.

"What's with you two anyways?" I changed tactics, hoping to throw him off. "Don't think I didn't notice that pissing contest back there."

For a moment, I watched his expression change, a darkness fleeting across his eyes as he contemplated my question. My plan had worked. Unfortunately, before I could get any useful information out of him, Ray once again made his usual untimely entrance.

"The married couple is fighting, yet again!" he yelled, throwing his hands in the air as he walked over to us. "What is it this time?"

Brad turned to Ray, any thoughts from before quickly dissipating. "Sam here has decided to flirt with the enemy—" he paused, looking back at me with an unreadable expression, "or should I say Laura?"

I glared daggers at him, only to receive a devilish grin in reply.

"You harlot!" Ray gasped. "How could you!"

I rolled my eyes at both of them. "You two are like children. And don't avoid the question," I said as I turned back to Brad. "Who is he?"

"Who is who?" Ray asked in confusion.

"No one," Brad sighed dismissively, giving me a pointed look.

"Sergeant William James," I said, ignoring Brad as I turned to Ray. "Know him?"

Ray blanched as I said the name, glancing at Brad with an uneasy look. "Uh... yeah, I know 'im. _That's_ who you were flirting with?"

"I wasn't flirting with anyone," I said as I looked between the two, before settling my eyes on Brad. "Something you want to tell me?"

"No," Brad replied, looking passed me as he scanned over the others who were making their way back. "C'mon, we're moving out soon. Let's get everything squared away," he said, presumably to Ray, as he turned and walked around to the other side of the Humvee.

"Do I even want to know?" I sighed, turning back to Ray.

He slowly shook his head. "Trust me on this—just stay away from that topic." He paused for a moment, staring at Brad as he walked out of view before furrowing his brow slightly. "Though it is odd that it's getting him this riled up..."

"Ray?"

"I think he likes you," he said, as if speaking to himself.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Ray turned back to me, looking as if he'd just noticed I was there. "I mean, the way you two are... I've never seen him get worked up the way he does when he's around you."

I rolled my eyes, taking in a deep breath. "Ray, you obviously don't know him very well then. Trust me on this—there is _nothing_ between us. The man can barely even stand that I'm around—"

"No," he interrupted, "_you_ are obviously blind to the massive amount of unresolved sexual tension between you two."

"Now you're just making things up," I countered.

"Am I?"

As I went to make some smart-ass remark, something in my mind stopped me from doing so.

Ray did not let this hesitation go unnoticed, as a huge shit-eating grin instantly spread across his lips. "That's what I thought. Don't think I don't notice it in you too."

Ray turned as he heard his named called out from somewhere in the distance. He began to walk away towards the voice, but I called out to stop him, making him turn back around.

"Hey, about earlier... I'm really sorry about... you know..."

He shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said before I could finish. Shoving his hands in his pockets, a smile spread across his lips as he gave me a wink before turning and heading back towards the others.

Slowly, a smile spread across my lips as well. It was good to know that I could always count on Ray to be a good sport, no matter what happened.

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><p>I hope you all enjoyed! Oh, and I'll give a billion brownie points (maybe a special prize?) to whoever can guess which lovely star made a cameo in this chapter :)<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

_**AN:** Well, two of you lovely reviewers guessed who the guess star was (both Jamie and The Mysterious E now are one billion brownie points richer!), yet both of them were guest reviewers. So, since I cannot give them their rewards directly, they must now share it with everyone in the form of a new chapter :) And yes, it was Jeremy Renner; I just love that man... and it helps that he played a military role, (albeit I tweaked his character for his cameo- for example, he was Army in The Hurt Locker, not Marine) so I thought I'd sneak him in here. Hope you enjoyed him, because he will be back!_

_I will admit, this chapter is somewhat short and I do apologize for that, but I think it makes up for itself in the long run; plus, I needed a segue into the next "section," if you will. I hope you still enjoy!_

_Still have to take a moment and thank all of the reviews I received: casper22, Librangen, LeMiSo, "Guest"-whatever your name may be, caught-offsides, Jamie, Colorful Raging Cancer, and The Mysterious E. I love each and every one of you, and find myself unable to gather the words to accurately describe how much your reviews mean to me, and how they keep me inspired to keep writing!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

**Lines in the Sand**

"Shouldn't there some boundaries," I said as I dragged my foot through the sand, my mind going over the events of yesterday, "some lines we shouldn't cross with one another?"

Brad watched as I made a line with my foot, his arms crossed as he leaned against the passenger-side door. His helmet was off, sitting back in the Humvee along with his vest, jacket, and weapon. We had been sitting around for nearly an hour now, waiting for the call that would clear us to cross over the bridge. Or something like that; I was a little fuzzy on the details. Most of the guys had gotten out of the vehicles and were sitting around in various groups or wandering about the convoy, going to see what others were up to. Brad and I were the only ones still currently at our vehicle, Ray, Walt, and Trombley having wandered off a while ago.

"I find drawing lines in the sand irrelevant," he finally spoke up.

"Why is that?"

He shrugged. "Sand's always moving—wind, water—lines, no matter how deep you draw them, can so easily be wiped away."

Oh, so we were getting metaphysical now. "So why not draw them in something more concrete?"

"Where's the fun in that?" I could see that small grin begin to form on his lips. "Besides, if it's clear cut, then you can't cross it."

"That's not true," I mused, "it's just more apparent when you do."

This time, his smile reached his eyes and transformed into something unreadable. One thing I could tell, however, was that he was thoroughly amused by my answer, yet I had no idea why. It was then that I realized that all of our lines were drawn in sand. Sometimes there, sometimes gone, sometimes muddled somewhere in between.

"So what about my reward?" I asked, changing the subject.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"My reward," I smiled up at him. "For behaving?"

"Oh," he mouthed as realization hit him. "Yeah, no, you lost that."

I could feel myself gape at him. "What!"

And once again his grin was back. "Yesterday, remember?"

"No," I shook my head, "you can't do that! In no way was that my fault!"

"You still disobeyed a direct order."

"What order was that, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"For one, I told you to behave. You didn't," he said, giving me a pointed look. "And I told you not to distract anyone. You managed to distract four of them."

"Not on purpose," I countered. "You think I asked them to come over?" I rolled my eyes as he continued to look at me as if none of what I said changed anything. "So what, was I supposed to curl up in the back and hide away for six hours?"

"Now there's an idea..." he muttered softly. I narrowed my eyes at him, eliciting a grin from his lips.

"So, Sergeant James?" I began, and just like that the playful look in his eyes was gone.

"You just don't give up, do you?" he mumbled, sighing heavily.

"One of my better qualities, so I'm told."

"Who told you that?"

I shook my head. "Don't avoid the question."

"You never asked a question."

"Brad," I said slowly, my voice taking on the tone of a mother trying to pry an answer from a reluctant child.

It was now his turn to roll his eyes at me. "He's... he _was_ an old friend," he sighed as if this was the most strenuous activity he'd done all day. "We go way back. Now, well, I guess you could say we just don't see eye to eye."

"Way to be vague," I mumbled. As if I couldn't have figured out that much on my own. "Care to elaborate?"

"Don't push your luck," he said with an expression of warning.

"I've pushed it this far," I shrugged. "Don't see what worse could happen."

I watched as a smile slowly formed on his lips, but knew that he was done talking about the subject when he didn't add anything further.

I sighed in defeat and unfolded my arms, resting one hand on the side of the door, the other on my hip. "You know, I bet my 'reward' wasn't going to be good anyways," I muttered to myself, though loud enough for him to hear.

His eyebrow raised at my statement before a look of curious amusement crossed his features. "Oh really?" he spoke as his hands grasped the collar of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before casually draping it on the door of the Humvee. "How can you be sure of that?"

My eyes couldn't help but wander over his exposed chest. As he moved, faint shadows danced across his skin, highlighting the outlines of the various muscle groups now on display. "Sergeant Colbert, are you trying to distract me?"

He shrugged lazily. "It's hot." He paused briefly as a devilish glint shone in his eyes. "Are you distracted?"

I turned away, leaning my back against the door as I looked up towards the empty blue sky. "Not much to be distracted by," I responded passively, before a plan hatched itself in my mind. "Though you are right, it _is_ getting increasingly hot out here."

Slowly, my hands made their way to the waistband of my pants and traveled up my midsection, taking my shirt with them. I glanced up at him, noticing his eyes following my hands intently, his expression darkening as they moved higher. I couldn't help the grin from spreading across my lips; two could play this game.

In two graceful steps, Brad quickly closed the space between us. His hands captured my wrists, stopping them mid-way passed my bra. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body despite the already warm weather, and every inch of my skin suddenly burned to touch his. "What did I tell you about distracting my men?" he said in a voice bordering on a growl.

His tone had an effect on me that I hadn't anticipated, but I quickly composed myself in an attempt to take control of the situation. "_They_ aren't here," I said, making sure to keep my voice even as my eyes captured his. There was no denying the unbridled emotion storming within them, and it took every ounce of strength I possessed not to reciprocate. "It's just you," I breathed out slowly, "and me."

Every logical part of my brain was, at this point, screaming at me to stop. And deep down, I knew I should have. However, another much more primal side was currently winning out, and was most likely the driving force behind my next move. Without ever breaking eye contact, I pressed my body flush against his, suppressing the shudder that threatened to overtake me as our skin finally met. "Am I distracting you, Sergeant?"

His lips parted in a silent gasp as his hands dropped from my wrists, falling to rest on my hips. His fingers grasped at my exposed skin, pressing himself equally back against me as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Yes," he breathed out, his voice giving away the reluctance of his answer.

My eyes widened fractionally, unable to contain my shock at his response. I also couldn't ignore the desire it suddenly caused to pool deep within me. My hands dropped from my shirt, falling to rest on the heated skin of his chest. After a moment his eyes opened, his icy blues once again capturing mine, only this time that same look undeniably shone in both our eyes.

"Hey, Brad!" a voiced called out from some distance away. "The LT needs to talk to you!"

I could feel the hesitancy in his movements as he peeled away from me. My skin screamed in defiance as it was once again exposed to the open air, and I mentally cursed it for feeling that way. I let my arms drop to my side as I pressed myself back against the door again, releasing a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

I watched him pull away, forcing my gaze to revert back to its usual impassive expression. When his eyes finally met mine again, I noticed a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, as if he were looking straight through my façade.

"Don't pretend like you weren't distracted either," he said as he reached out, tugging my shirt down so that I was fully covered once more. He gave me a quick wink before turning and heading off towards the voice that had called for him.

I glared in his direction as he walked away, though I was angrier with myself than anything. I was always able to retain complete control of a situation like that; if I had control, I could manipulate the person any way I wanted, and things would go my way. That was, of course, before I met Brad. Whenever I got close to him, I could feel my body betray me and act of its own accord, ignoring my engrained training to control any and all emotions when in close contact with others. I especially hated the fact that he, of all people, could make me lose control like that. What had just transpired served as a testament to the fact that it was only getting worse.

However, I resigned to tell myself that, like all the men here, I had just been deprived for a long time. These reactions were simply my body's own primal needs aching to be filled, nothing more.

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><p>"Why is it called friendly fire?"<p>

"Trombley, please tell me you're not planning on shooting one of us again."

"No, I'm serious. Why do they call it friendly fire when it... well, it's not very friendly?"

"Jesus fucking Christ! The intelligence level of the people they're stocking the Marines with has plummeted to an all-time low!" Ray cried out as he threw his hands up, exasperated.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Ray," Brad said impassively as he looked over the map he held in his hand.

We had finally gotten the call to move out again, passing over the bridge with relative ease, despite Ray's continuing rants about how we'd been in a 'perfectly ambushable' area for hours. Once we'd gotten into the town, we stopped again for a little while, but mainly only to resupply at the make-shift base-type area that had been set up by previous troops.

This was the largest town I'd seen so far with them, with the densest part looking almost like a real city. However, by now we'd made our way towards the outskirts, and the buildings were becoming increasingly few and far between. There were still people meandering about the streets though, to which I imagined Brad's warning referred.

When we neared the edge of town an order came in over the radio to halt the convoy. Once again we were left sitting around without any way of knowing what was going on. Eventually we did manage to find out that they had stopped to question someone, but were given no reasoning behind it. After a while Brad was called out to join the small group questioning the Iraqis, and returned about twenty minutes later.

"Sam, come with me," he said as he walked over to my door, opening it as he motioned for me to get out.

I stared at him curiously, but didn't question the order as I slid out of the back seat, following behind him as he began walking in the direction from which he'd come.

"They need you to translate," he said, answering my un-asked question.

"But why me? Don't they have Meesh?"

"The LT has reasons to believe he isn't telling us everything. He just wants a second opinion," he clarified.

I was about to say something but restrained myself. It was weird seeing him like this, so professional with his answers. Not saying that he wasn't normally professional, but I was just getting used to seeing the lighter side of Brad. Plus the fact that he almost never addressed me with the tone he was using now, I was starting to feel uneasy about what was really going on.

However, I don't think any amount of uneasiness could have ever predicted what happened next.

"She's here," Brad announced as we reached the group.

I moved to step around him, glancing over everyone who stood before me. There was Brad to my right, Lt. Fick to my left, Meesh next to Fick, and a small group of three Iraqis in front of me.

"Sam, these guys are telling us..." Fick began, but his voice quickly faded from my mind.

When I looked at the three initially, I'd only vaguely taken in their features. However, there was one standing off to the left who'd caught my attention more than the others. As I stared up at him, his green eyes captured my blue ones almost instantly, and a sinister look flooded his features. I couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity I felt as I stared at him, nor could I decipher the expression on his face. That was until my eyes left his and fell upon his right cheek.

Running up the length of his cheek and stopping just below his eye, a deep scar marred the skin, half hidden by the coarse, dark hair of his beard. There was no mistaking it.

"_You!_"


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:**_ Terribly sorry that this has taken so long. I have probably re-written this chapter about 4 or 5 times, and I'm still not fully pleased with it, but it didn't feel right to keep you all waiting for so long. Plus, I have been without internet for a week, so that has slowed my progress as well. Anyways, feedback for this story would be very much appreciated because I have never really written an action sequence per se, so if it sucks, just tell me. I can handle it :)_

_On that note, I would like to thank gillybean83, Colorful Raging Cancer, Librangen, casper22, caught-offsides, LeMiSo, Australia (I'm just going to assume you're representing you're entire country :p), rubyred19, The ever Mysterious E, and Volleyball Babe22 for all of your wonderful reviews! You guys are all amazing and are the reason I haven't given up on this story altogether :)_

_I must extend a special thank you to Blood vs Water, cause she'll kill me if I don't. Plus, these chapters would never get out if I didn't get her opinion first, so everyone should thank her as well. And by that I mean harrass her with pointless messages. :)_

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><p><em><strong>*For everyone who was confused about who 'you' was in the last chapter, I would recommend going back and re-reading chapter 1*<strong>_

**Chapter 12**

**History**

It was like time had slowed down. None of this was real. I was in a dream, and if I waited long enough, I would wake up from it all.

But I knew it wasn't a dream. It was really happening, all of it. This man was truly standing here before me, and suddenly all I saw was red.

I watched as he turned around and began running the other way. Without a moment's hesitation I bolted after him, easily staying on his heels. I could hear shouts coming from behind me, calling me, screaming at me to stop, but I didn't. I couldn't.

_Him._ I had to get_ him_.

He ran into what looked to be a house and I followed suit, throwing my full body weight into the door before it could close. I didn't let this action phase me, even though I had unwittingly slammed my injured shoulder into the hard wood. I pushed passed the momentary pain as I continued to follow him. Down a hallway, through a bedroom, out the window; no matter where he went, I followed. At one point he tried to throw things down between us to slow my progress, though he quickly learned that it was doing nothing but slowing him down while I was almost able to close the gap between us.

As I chased after him, I idly took in the sounds of gunfire in the background. Was that the team? I had no way of knowing. But if it was, who were they attacking?

It didn't take long to piece together the fact that he was using this area as a stronghold of sorts. I picked up on a few men in my peripheral dressed in all black the same way the men who held me in that van were dressed. Except now there were much more of them.

As we ran by them, the man shouted at them to help. They reacted quickly, figuring out in no time that I was the most present threat they faced. Shouting back and forth to each other, they attempted to slow me down, or take me out, as soon as they realized who I was. I managed to slide passed the first group without them being on my tail, but the further the man ran the deeper into the heart of his little hide-out I went where more of his men were waiting for me.

I knew they had weapons. I saw most of them standing around with at least one as I passed, so I was expecting to receive a barrage of incoming fire as I moved behind the man. However, while I did feel bullets hit the ground and objects around me, there were a lot fewer than there should have been. Maybe they were too preoccupied by the assault from Bravo Company; I would never know.

At one point I heard gunshots directly behind me, causing my heart to skip a beat. Everything in me expected to get shot again, leaving me to the mercy of these men once more. But it never came. Either the guy behind me was a bad shot, or I was literally the luckiest person on the face of this earth, judging by how close the shots had been fired to me. I didn't have time to think this through, however, for my mind reverted back to its one mission: stopping _him_.

I watched as he entered a much larger building, differing from the sandstone houses we'd been going through by its solid concrete structure. I took half a second to assess my surroundings before entering cautiously. Something just seemed off about this, which caused my hair to stand on end.

I walked slowly down a narrow hallway before entering into a large room. I mentally cursed myself for not picking up a weapon, though I knew the search for one would have cost me valuable time. My eyes scanned the room quickly, watching closely for any movement, but finding none. It was a simple living room-type area, nothing more than a couch, two chairs, and small table in the middle. In the right corner there were various stacks of unmarked boxes, none of which had been opened. I also noticed an empty magazine cartridge thrown seemingly haphazardly to the left of the couch, yet there were no weapons in sight.

I slowly walked over to the opening at the left of the room, my eyes never ceasing to stay alert. I listened closely, but there was utter silence in the building, the only noise coming from the gunfire outside.

The next corridor led to a narrow, dimly lit staircase. Pressing my right hand to the wall, I slowly ascended the steps. Once I got to the first landing, I stared up at the last flight that led to a darkened hallway. That's where he had to be.

I bit my lip hard, knowing full well that he'd be waiting for me up there. Taking in shallower breaths, I quietly moved my way up the stairs, now pressing the full length of my back against the right wall. When I reached the second to last step, I closed my eyes and held my breath, listening for anything. I picked up on a soft ruffling sound—there was a window open to the left, most likely the only light source available.

When I opened my eyes again, I chanced a look down the hallway. Empty. A faint light lit it up just enough to see, coming from a room on the left where I'd heard the curtains. On the right was another doorway, though this one was pitch black, and at the very end of the hall was the beginning of another flight of stairs.

I made my way up into the hallway, carefully switching over to the left-side wall, grateful that the floors were made of the same solid material as the building and not wood. As I inched myself along the wall, I kept my breaths slow and even, never taking my eyes off of the right-side doorway. When I got close enough, I could just barely see into the room. It was in fact pitch-black, keeping me from seeing any of its contents. I knew then that he wouldn't be in that room because it would too hard to see when I entered. That only left the left-side room, or up the second flight of stairs. Since I'd been right on his tail when he entered the building and it'd been quiet ever since, I gambled on him still being there. However, it was too risky to just storm in, especially without knowing what resources he had available to him in that room.

Instead, I leaned down and untied my boot slowly, careful to do it as quietly as possible. Once I managed to pull my foot out of the leather, I placed my foot back on the ground and picked the shoe up. Taking a moment to judge the distance between my position and the stairwell, I threw it towards the upper half of the stairwell, watching closely as it landed with a resounding _thud_ on the fourth step.

Less than a second later the man stepped out of the doorway, firing shots in the direction of the staircase. Before he could realize what was wrong, I swiftly connected my right, still booted foot with his back. He cursed as he fell, landing back into the room from which he'd emerged. I was quick to follow behind, kicking the gun he'd held away from his reach.

In the course of doing this, however, he managed to grab my ankle and yank it, causing me to fall hard on my back. All of the wind rushed from lungs at that moment as my eyes went black, my mind unable to grasp what was going on around me. I felt a heavy weight pinning me down before a hard blow to my right side took away any air I'd managed to recover.

As my vision began to return, I could vaguely make out his figure as he stood above me before I felt him grab my hair and yank me up. He dragged me a few feet across the floor, then tossed my body hard against the wall. Once again my shoulder took the brunt of the impact, but this time my mind didn't hold back on the pain it caused. My entire side throbbed as I crumpled to the ground, desperately trying to recover my bearings. Before I could even make it to my knees the full weight of his heal crashed into my right side, forcing my left to once again slam into the wall.

I gasped out in pain, unable to hold back any longer. I knew I had to do something, and fast, or else it would turn out just like before. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and figure out my next move. I forced myself up onto my knees, turning so that I could press my heels into the wall. As he attempted to land another kick into my side, I launched myself forward, throwing my shoulder down and tacking him at his waist, using his momentum to force him onto the ground.

His body collided with the hard floor, now in a similar state as I had been in before. I used this moment of confusion to land a hard hit to his jaw, then to his temple, disorienting him further. Yet, even through my barrage of hits, he managed to catch me on my left cheek, sending my flying off of him.

I caught myself quickly, rolling back up onto my hands and knees. I glanced over at him, watching as he too rolled over in an attempt to get up. It was at this moment that my eyes wandered over to the gun still lying on the floor in front of us both.

Without another moment's hesitation I launched myself at it, grasping it in my hand as I forced myself up. Once it was securely in my grip, I went over to him. He was on his hands and knees, seconds from getting up before I kicked the side of his face, sending him rolling back onto his side. With another swift kicked to his gut, he growled out in pain, his body writhing on the floor. I stood above him, situating the AK in my hands as I pointed it straight at the middle of his forehead.

"_Well isn't that the charming picture_," he wheezed out, his lips turning up in a smile. "_Tell me, is this some sort of revenge you seek?_"

"Fuck you," I growled out, spitting the blood that had pooled in my mouth down on the ground beside him.

"Ah, so we're dropping the pleasantries, then?" he replied, his accent heavy in English.

"Tell me where he is," I demanded, growing angrier with each passing second.

"Ah, so this is what this is about," he nodded.

"Tell me."

"You still think you can make a difference?" His face lit up in amusement as he stared at me. "It's too late, little girl."

I flipped the gun and hit the side of his temple with the end, causing a gash to open just below his eyebrow. "Tell me where he is!"

The amusement his face once held was instantly gone when he turned back to me, blood slowly making its way down his cheek. "He's gone! There is nothing you or any of your pathetic friends can do to stop him now. Give up."

"Never," I said through clenched teeth. "And don't you dare talk about my friends like that, or I swear to God I'll—"

"What? Kill me?" He threw his head back, his laughter echoing throughout the room. "You are nothing. You can do nothing. Nobody cares about you anymore—you are dead, remember? So what if you kill me? You cannot stop us. It will be a waste, just like the life of your partner."

"Fuck you!" I cried out, the anger suddenly boiling over as I kicked him as hard as I could, holding nothing back. "You have _no right_—"

"What, and you do?" he coughed out. "_You're_ the one who killed him, not us! You live behind a lie because you think you can make things right, but it is too late."

"It's not too late. It's not..."

"It is, just like it was too late for him," he breathed out, staring up at me with darkened eyes. "Tell me, how did it feel when you put a bullet through his head, when you killed the one person who actually cared about you out here, when you betrayed your country—"

I never let him finish. With the slightest pull of my finger, three rounds sank into his head, effectively rendering him silent. I watched his body slump as a crimson pool slowly spread around his head like a bloody halo.

The gun slipped from my hands, crashing to the ground as I sank to my knees. I tried to keep his words out of my head, but it was like he'd opened the floodgates and a tidal wave of memories came flooding back.

_**Please... please... **No, no I can't, I won't...** Please... **Just hold on a little longer...** Please...**_

Suddenly a loud gunshot brought me back from my thoughts. For a moment I thought someone had shot me, that this would finally be the end to my journey. But as I looked up, I watched one of his men fall to the ground in the doorway opposite the one we'd entered. I never even realized there was more than one entrance to this room. As I attempted to regain my composure, I realized that the gunshot was the same as the one I'd heard so close to me earlier, now even closer. I turned my head slowly, my gaze meeting the ever-blue eyes of Brad.

"How long have you been there?" I asked after a long moment of silence between us.

"Long enough," was his simple reply. His face was devoid of any emotion, rendering me unable to decipher what he meant.

"Thank you," I said softly, realizing now that he'd been the one behind me, making sure I wasn't killed by the other gunmen.

"Come on, let's go."

I slowly stood, following behind him as he led us out of the building.

When we caught up to the others, he immediately took me to Doc. He didn't say a word to me the entire way there, and left promptly after Doc started working on me.

I hissed in pain as he lifted up my shirt. He took a moment to survey the plethora of new wounds I had managed to collect over my abdomen, the black and blue hues highlighting my most recent stint of injuries. His expert hands scanned all of them, each coming with their own share of pain, before he moved on to the most glaring problem—my shoulder. "You tore it up pretty bad," he said as he peeled back my bandages that were now soaked in blood.

"So I've noticed," I mumbled in reply.

"I have to stop the bleeding. Lean back," he instructed while pulling out supplies from his bag.

I did as I was told, leaning back slightly so that he could get a better angle at the wound. I watched as he pressed some sort of special bandage that almost looked like clay against it. I bit my lip as he did this, trying not to focus on the pain that radiated through my entire upper body at the pressure he had to place on it. After he seemed satisfied with its placement, he went to work wrapping it up in the familiar medical tape he'd used before.

"This will stop the bleeding for now, but you're going to need to get that stitched up soon, or you'll have one hell of a scar."

"And one hell of a story," I mumbled as he finished wrapping me up. "Sometimes I think it would have just been better if Trombley had hit his mark," I sighed as he gave me another dose of morphine that my body welcomed with open arms.

"He almost did," Doc said, almost as an afterthought.

I turned to look up at him, now all ears. "What?"

"Trombley's a good shot. I've seen his handy-work first-hand," he replied, his voice trailing off at the end as if remembering something he'd rather not have.

"But, Ray said..."

I stopped when Doc shook his head, finally turning to look up at me. "It was Brad. He must have noticed something was off through his scope 'cause he tried to stop him at the last second. He pulled him back by his shoulder… guess it was enough to throw his aim off," he finished with a shrug.

My mind reeled with this new information. "So it was Brad..." my voice trailed off, unable to complete the thought as my mind began to go over the events of that night and the next morning. The blood on his cuff...

I turned back to Doc, about to ask him if it had been Brad who had found me out there and taken me back, but he was already in the process of packing up and I didn't want to bother him any more than I had.

"You've got a few nasty bruises there on your ribs, and you'll want to watch that eye, but I'm glad to report no broken bones or anything more serious than that shoulder of yours," he said as he finished gathering everything up.

I nodded. "Thanks again," I said as I slipped my shirt back on.

"Hey," he paused, looking back at me for a moment. "Try not to get into any more trouble, OK? I don't know how much more that shoulder can take."

I smiled warmly at his warning. "I'll try," I replied before standing up and heading back over to Humvee.

When I reached the others, it didn't take long to realize that there was one key person missing. "Hey, Walt," I said as I walked over to him and Ray, who seemed to be replacing a flat tire, "have you seen Brad anywhere?"

He paused from what he was doing to look up at me, staring at me for a long moment, but didn't say anything before pointing off to the right.

I gave him a confused look but he simply went back to working. I walked around to the other side and looked over to where Walt had pointed. Sure enough, Brad was standing off by himself some distance away.

I made the trek over to him, stopping just a few paces behind him. He didn't make any move to acknowledge my presence, so I took a deep breath before I began. "Hey... Um, so about today—"

"Save it," he cut me off in a tone he reserved for giving orders.

I blinked a few times, momentarily thrown off by this. "Are you... mad at me?"

He finally turned to face me, and when his eyes met mine I realized instantly that I hadn't even needed to ask the question. "What do you think?"

"Brad, I'm sorry about how things—"

"No you're not; don't even try to give me that. You never are. Not once since you've been with us have obeyed even the simplest of orders and every time—"

"I'm sorry, last I checked I wasn't in the military," I shot back, suddenly annoyed that he was so worked up over this. My ass was the one on the line, not his. "You're _not_ my CO, so stop pretending to be! Look, I'm sorry about what happened today, but those were the men who _kidnapped_ me, who _tortured_ me—"

"So what, you think that gives you a right to go on some revenge mission?" he spat back. "One of the first things they tell us is that you cannot let your emotions drive your actions. By doing that, you put everyone around you at risk! All of these men, even yourself..." his voice faltered on the last word.

My eyes softened as I watched the pained expression cross his features, and a dull, unfamiliar ache formed in my chest. "Brad..." I slowly began, but he cut me off before I could continue.

He tore his eyes from mine as he took a step back, shaking his head. "And your partner? The one who you had to practically force to leave you so that he could get away?"

It was now my turn to look away from him. "It's not what you think..."

He turned back to me, his eyes hardening with the anger they held before. "After all we do for you; you don't even have the decency to tell us the truth. Are you even capable of it?"

"Oh please, don't patronize me," I growled back.

"Right," he nodded with a roll of his eyes, "and the next thing I know, you'll tell me your name isn't really Sam."

I looked up at him, parting my lips as if to answer, but closed them again. When his eyes looked into mine, I knew that he'd know. "Brad, I..."

"Oh wow," he said, sounding almost as if he were holding back laughter. "They really trained you good, didn't they?"

"Stop it! Just, stop." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before slowly opening them again. I knew after all that had happened I had to do this, now more than ever. "I was born Phoenix Alexandria Hayes on April 26, 1977. My mother died when I was six, so my father was the one who raised me. I have two brothers, one of which was in the CIA as well. When I was 22 I dropped out of college then joined the CIA about three months later, and by 23 became a field agent. I was given the name Samantha Rose Harper as my main alias; I've used others, but for all intents and purposes that _is_ my name now. Everything I told you guys about why I was sent here is true. My partner and I were close to gaining access to the weapons dealer through the Jihadist leader, but... things didn't go as planned."

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to keep the memories of that night at bay. "We found out the hard way that one of our team members is a double agent, and has been feeding the enemy intel since well before I was even on this case. We never stood a chance against them..." _**Please... **Just hold on, not like this...** Please... **_"I did kill my partner," I sighed, as if I myself hadn't acknowledged it until I said it out loud. "But I didn't have a choice. If I'd left him there, he would have died from hunger or dehydration, and he would have been in excruciating pain the entire time. There was no way I could call to get him help, and he knew that. He asked me... he pleaded for me to..." Even as I said those words, the weight of what I had done hit me full force. No matter how I tried to rationalize it, it was me who killed him, not them. I'd failed him.

"Why are you telling me this?"

I looked up at Brad, his voice bringing me back to the present. He was staring at me with an unreadable expression, but his eyes had lost all the anger they once held. "Because you deserve to know," I replied softly. _And because I owe you my life, _I continued, though left that part unspoken.

He continued to stare at me for a long moment, his expression unwavering. "We're headed to Baghdad," he finally spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen between us. "Once we reach the city, there'll be a team there that can take you back. You'll leave with them." Without another word, he turned and headed back towards the Humvee.

A minute later, I turned and followed silently behind.

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><p><em>Well, I hope you ejoyed that chapter! Also, just because I foresee this coming up, remember that this story is taking place in 20032004, so Sam is around 26 and Brad is 29/30. Don't do the math for 2012, cause she'd be a lot older then :P_


	13. Chapter 13

_**AN**: I regret to inform you all that my summer is now over and come Friday I will be moving into my dorm and starting this new crazy chapter of my life known as college. Now, I'm not saying that I'm abandoning this story, but I should warn you that chapters may be coming even less frequently than they have been, especially after classes start. I'm going to try to get chapter 14 up before classes start, but I can't make any promises. Also, I have begun writing a fic for Warrior (blame my friend for showing me that movie... and my overwhelming love for Tom Hardy) and it has rather captivated my attention at the moment. However, I **will** keep writing this story because I just couldn't leave this project hanging unfinished. On the plus side, maybe my writing will improve after I've taken a few more writing classes :)_

_I would like to thank LeMiSo, caught-offsides, casper22, Blood v Water, Librangen, Jaime, Cherie9948, rubyred19, and Colorful Raging Cancer for your reviews. You guys are all amazing and I appreciate the continued support! _

_Hope you enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

**Baghdad**

"OH MY GOD!" Ray whined in an exasperated tone. "What the hell is taking him so long?"

We were stopped just outside of Baghdad, waiting for Brad to return to the vehicle. When we'd reached the outskirts of the city, Brad had been called away to some meeting, assumedly to discuss what the plan was. _Or maybe just what the plan for me was_, I thought idly as I stared up at the tall buildings that framed the skyline of this country's capital.

I gently ran my fingertips along my left cheekbone, assessing the damage for myself. I knew he hadn't broken the bone, as Doc had assured me, but there had to be a nasty bruise there. I pressed ever so lightly on the skin, wincing as pain erupted from the surface.

"They fucked you up pretty good, huh?"

I turned to Trombley at the sound of his voice.

"Bet you gave 'em hell though," he said with a grin. When my only response was a raise of my eyebrow, he continued in explanation. "Finally heard what you did to Ray. Now I know what was eatin' him for so long."

A small smile ghosted across my lips before fading. "Yeah, I gave 'em hell alright."

"What'd you want with 'em anyways?" he continued. "Heard you ran after some guy the second you laid eyes on him. Know 'im?"

I sighed, turning back to look out of the window. "Something like that."

"See, that's why women aren't allowed in combat. Too driven by emotions."

I turned my head to glare up at Ray, prepared to go on an hour long rant about why women should be allowed into combat and how we can be just as capable as men, but since men like him are the ones that run everything in our country we are forced to bow down to whatever backwards, misogynistic views they have about women at the time. Hell, one of the reasons I joined the CIA was because it was one of the few organizations that actually allowed women out in the field. But when I saw the smile on his face, I knew there was no need to argue the point; he was just teasing me.

"Guess that depends on the woman, now doesn't it?" I replied with a roll of my eyes, deciding not to give in to his taunts.

"Naw, yall are all the same. Trust me," he said with a wink, "I know from experience."

"The only experience you know is with your left hand," Trombley mumbled.

"Actually, I'm right-handed," Ray replied, slipping on his Aviators, "but your mom seems to prefer to use her mouth."

"Fuck you, Person!" Trombley shot back, his rising anger palpable within the small space.

"Will you two give it a rest for once?" Walt yelled down to them. Surprisingly, that seemed to be enough to shut them up for the time being. Neither of them proceeded to make a snide remark at this command, even Ray who always seemed to have one at the ready, and a rare silence descended upon us.

That was, of course, until Ray began drumming on the steering wheel. It started out as a lazy, slow beat, but quickly began picking up rhythm. His head began bobbing up and down as he mouthed out the beats, humming a familiar tune. He glanced over at me for a moment, a huge grin spreading across his face, instantly making me dread whatever was about to happen.

After drawing in a deep breath, Ray began to sing. "_Let's get down to business, to defeat the Huns! Did they send me daughters, when I asked for sons?_"

I instantly rolled my eyes when I realized why the tune was so familiar, and also why he was singing it.

"_You're the saddest bunch I ever met, but you can bet before we're through—mister, I'll make a man out of you!_"

"Ha-ha, very funny Ray," I mumbled.

This did little to interrupt his enthusiastic singing. He clutched his hand to his chest as he sang about a 'fire within' and thrust his fist up as he sang 'you are sure to win.'

"Come on, seriously?" Trombley grumbled as he leaned back in his seat.

"Why you always gotta be singin' that shit man?" Walt added.

"Oh please, you know you guys were rockin' out to this shit when you saw that movie."

"You _willingly_ saw that movie?" Trombley questioned.

"Hell yeah I did!" Ray yelled out, his voice full of pride. "I saw that shit in theaters."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Trombley grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"Come on you guys! You know you want to join in with your 'ol pal Ray," he grinned. When he was only met with silence, he nodded and shrugged. "You know what, you guys are a spineless, pale, pathetic lot, and you haven't got a clue," he said, beginning to sing the last part in an attempt to egg them on. "_Somehow I'll make a man out of you!_" he bellowed out, singing just as he was before.

After a long moment of silence, I was slightly surprised to hear Walt speak up. "_I'm never gonna catch my breath_."

With a defeated sigh, Trombley joined in. "_Say goodbye to those who knew me_."

"_Why was I a fool in school for cutting gym!"_ Ray continued, still pounding out the beat on the steering wheel.

"_This guy's got 'em scared to death!"_ Walt sang out, a small smile touching his lips this time.

Suddenly, Trombley nudged me, indicating that it was my turn. I sighed deeply and shook my head. Even though I thought this was utterly ridiculous, I wasn't going to be the one to ruin their good time. "_Hope he doesn't see right through me_," I sang in what I attempted to make my most girliest sounding voice.

"_Now I really wish that I knew how to swim!_" Ray finished up.

"_BE A MAN !"_ they all shouted in unison as Ray proceeded to sing the chorus, all of them jumping in at the 'be a man' part. I had to admit, watching all of them sing together was, in a sense, kind of adorable. For once they weren't fighting, with each other or the enemy, and they actually seemed to be enjoying each other's company.

Not wanting to be left out, I joined in as Ray began singing the next stanza, much to everyone's surprise. As we concluded with another 'how could I make a man out of you?', all of them joined in with singing the last two stanzas. As we sang the last line, 'mysterious as the dark side of the moon,' Ray dragged out the word 'moon' for as long as he possibly could, and afterwards applause broke out among the Humvees closest to us. I rolled my eyes, knowing it was a sarcastic applause, but couldn't help but smile either way.

"Holy shit, Sam, I had no idea you could sing like that!" Walt smiled down at me.

"Yeah, had we known someone out here could actually sing any good, we woulda shut Ray up ages ago," Trombley chimed in.

"Hey, my singing ain't that bad!" Ray countered.

"Yes it is," both Walt and Trombley replied in unison.

"Thanks guys," I smiled, trying to contain my laughter. "I never thought I was all that good."

"Well, you definitely are," Walt nodded.

"Yeah, if this whole CIA thing doesn't work out, you should become a singer."

I rolled my eyes at Trombley's remark. "Oh yeah, let me get right on that."

"I leave for five minutes and you guys decide to make a boy band." We all turned at the sound of Brad's voice, watching as he walked back over to the Humvee and climbed in.

"Technically it's just a band," Ray said as he nodded back towards me, "since we got a chick 'n' all."

Brad glanced back at me for a moment before turning forward again. "Well, I hope your world tour won't suffer much without her—she'll be gone soon enough."

And just like that, the mood completely shifted. I could feel everyone's eyes turn to me, but avoided them all, opting to stare out of the window as if I hadn't heard what he'd said.

"We're pushing straight through," Brad continued, using his usual authoritative voice. "Follow along this road," he addressed Ray, "I'll guide you from there."

Ray nodded, and after Brad called it in over the radio, we set out in silence.

Driving through the heart of Baghdad was pretty much the same as driving through the center of any country's capital—noisy, crowded, and congested. For a while we were trapped in traffic, but eventually we were able to push through the worst of it and the roads opened up. However, the further north we went, the further into the 'danger zone' we were getting. Baghdad was still a major center for terrorist activities, and rarely went a day without some sort of fire-fight breaking out.

Yet, even with this threat looming over their heads, the guys seemed to be relatively calm. Not at ease, but calm. They took up their usual precautions—checking their sectors and 'staying frosty' as Brad loved to say—but other than that, they were still occasionally chatting and joking with one another.

"Looks like we might actually make it through without having to shoot anything," Walt commented as we rolled through a quieter part of the city.

"Yeah, unless you just jinxed us," Ray interjected.

"Imma be pissed if I don't get to shoot anything," Trombley grumbled.

"Geeze Trombley, don't you think you've shot enough people already?" Ray said, shaking his head slowly.

"You know, it's kind of funny when you think about it," I mused out loud. "People always talk about how they're willing to die for their country," I turned to look over at Trombley, his gaze meeting mine a moment later, "but they never talk about if they're willing to kill for their country, too."

"Well," Ray began, "I guess we all know that Trombley here is one hundred percent ready for that task."

Trombley rolled his eyes at his comment. "Shut up, Person."

"That's usually what it comes down to, isn't it?" Brad suddenly spoke up, grabbing everyone's attention.

When I looked up, he was staring directly at me. It didn't take me long to detect the meaning carried in the undertone of his comment.

"I don't think so," I sighed after a minute, not allowing the weight of his gaze to affect me. "I think what it comes down to is whether or not you're able to do what _you_ know is right in a situation, regardless of orders or what others may think."

His eyebrow rose ever so slightly. "The opinions of others don't matter, then?"

I shrugged. "They're not the ones who have to live with it, are they? How it rests in your conscience is all that should matter."

He shrugged casually and nodded. "I suppose that's all that _should_ matter... but that's never how it really works out, is it?"

"No, it's not," I replied softly. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was thinking back on his own actions now more than mine.

Suddenly there was a loud, grinding noise before the Humvee lurched to a halt, throwing us forward with the force of the stop.

"What the hell was that!" Trombley yelled, pushing himself back into the seat.

"I don't fuckin' know! I didn't see anything. Walt, you got eyes on anything up there?"

"No," he replied once he was able to regain his footing, "I didn't see anything."

"Trombley, Ray, go out and see what it is," Brad sighed as he picked up the radio. "I'll call it in."

Both of them got out as Brad called in over the radio why we had stopped. A few minutes later, Ray returned to inform us that there was something jammed into the underside of the vehicle, blocking the right wheel from turning. He returned with Trombley to the front, one opening the hood and the other slipping underneath to see if they could get it out.

Time passed slowly as those two attempted to un-lodge whatever obstruction was caught in the wheel. The sun pushed ever higher into the sky as it approached noon, bringing with it the suffocating heat. Despite the heat, oddly enough, there were still a growing number of people coming out into the streets.

I glanced around, watching people as they passed, some stopping to spectate on our impromptu repair. In the background I heard the faint noise of what sounded like a bomb going off and gunfire, a constant reminder that we were still in a war zone. However, the look on the residence faces would suggest otherwise—none of them seemed to be affected by it.

_Odd_, I thought to myself, though it would make sense that they would be used to it by now. I let my eyes continue to wander and looked up at the buildings towering above us. Most of them looked to be apartment-type complexes with balconies overlooking the street, many of which were occupied by people looking down over the railing. As I continued to look around, the stares of all those up on the balconies began to unnerve me. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but I didn't know why; they seemed harmless enough_. They're just watching us like the people on the street_ I tried to reason with myself, though it did little to calm my nerves.

With a deep sigh I opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I looked over at Brad as he stared at me through his window, a less than pleased expression on his face.

"Stretching my legs," I shrugged, "before I'm cooped up on my 90-hour flight back."

He visibly paused for a moment, as if wanting to say something but thinking better of it at the last second, instead shaking his head. "Get back in the vehicle. I'm already in enough trouble because of you; I don't want any more."

My heart fell a little at his words. "How much trouble?" I asked tentatively.

He drew in a deep breath but before he could answer he turned his head towards Ray. I did the same, looking up to find him arguing with some man who looked to be in his late twenties, early thirties. Arguing may have been a loose term, however, since it consisted of the man speaking in Arabic and Ray yelling back in English—not exactly a productive conversation. The crowd around us began to grow with this sudden disturbance, closing in as they too strained to see what was going on.

I began to walk around so that I could see exactly what was happening but Brad swiftly got out and grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "Where do you think you're going?"

I narrowed my eyes at him and snatched my arm away from his hold. "To see what's going on."

"Stay in the vehicle," he practically hissed in his 'this is an order, do as you're told or I'll kill you' voice.

"You hear that?" I said as I nodded my head towards the two. "I may actually be of some use here, remember?"

"If it's really that important, we'll get Meesh."

"_Or_ we could sort this whole thing out now."

"Sam," Brad said slowly, "get back in the Humvee, _now_."

Just as I was about to argue my point further, a loud roar rose up from the crowd which attracted both mine and Brad's attention as we tried to locate the source of this sudden outburst. Sure enough, the cause of it was Ray, who had somehow managed to get into a fist fight with the guy he'd been arguing with. Trombley seemed to have decided to get into this as well, as he began shoving back members of the crowd who had joined in with fighting them.

Brad swore loudly as he ran over to them, yelling at them to stop while trying to split them up. I followed suit, but before I could reach them an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back roughly as a hand went to cover my mouth.

"_Come quietly_," a male voice rasped against my ear as he continued to pull me further back into the crowd.

For a moment I complied with his demand, allowing him to lead me further into the crowd, but once I felt him become distracted by the sea of onlookers I took my chance. Elbowing him hard in his ribs, I wrestled free of his hold as he groaned and doubled over. "Brad!" I yelled out, but before I could push very far into the crowd, I felt him grab my arm, cursing loudly as me pulled me back.

"_Maybe you don't understand_," he growled as I felt the familiar hard metal of a gun press into my temple.

"Sam!" I heard Brad yell out. I turned towards him, spotting him as the crowd quickly dispersed around us once they saw what was going on. "Don't move," he said as he raised his gun, pointing it at my attacker.

"Didn't plan on it," I grumbled.

"_Tell him to put down his weapon, or else we'll shoot,_" the man began yelling, pulling at my arm roughly. "_Tell him!_"

"What's he saying?" Brad asked, his eyes shifting between me and the man.

"He wants you to put down your gun," I replied, closing my eyes for a moment. "If you put it down, no one will get hurt."

"Like hell. This fucker won't—"

"Brad!" I cut him off, opening my eyes to stare at him. Once his eyes met mine, he seemed to understand my plan of attack, giving a small nod. At least I prayed he knew.

I drew in a slow, steadying breath before ducking my head down so that it was no longer in the path of his gun. The second that I was out of the way, Brad landed a shot perfectly in the middle of his forehead. As I watched him go down, I vaguely heard the screams of those around us, the crowd scattering in all directions. I reached down and grabbed the gun out of his hands, staring down at him and really looking at him for the first time, finding it odd for some reason that I didn't recognize him at all. It was at that moment that what he'd said decided to replay in my head. _We_.

"You never were one for following direction, were you?"

My heart stopped as I heard the all-too familiar voice, looking up slowly only to have my assumptions confirmed as my eyes met his. He had short, dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes that matched mine, and was wearing a perfectly tailored suit that did little to hide the strength of the man beneath. While the outfit looked out of place in this environment, it was hard to picture in him anything less. "Jacob..." I heard myself whisper, but the name sounded foreign on my lips.

"Long time no see." A slow smile spread across his lips, causing a sickening feeling to pool in my gut.

I narrowed my eyes at him then, hate suddenly radiating through every pore on my body. I pushed myself forward, walking towards him as I raised the gun to his head. "You son of b—"

He casually raised his hand as I approached and made a small movement with his first two fingers. A gunshot rang loudly through the air, stopping me dead in my tracks. His smile never faltered, and his eyes never left mine.

It took me less than a second to realize that I was not the one who'd been shot, but it didn't immediately register who had. It wasn't until I heard someone shouting behind me that I finally turned around and got my answer.

I froze as time seemed to slow down, my mind reeling with the scene before me. Trombley and Brad were both on the ground, kneeling over Ray's motionless body. They were shouting at him, trying to get him to respond, but he didn't move. I could barely hear their voices as everything around me became muted. This wasn't real. This couldn't be.

"Maybe now you'll learn," his voice whispered next to my ear as he took the gun from my shaking hand. Brad looked up at me then, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Ray's body.

"Let's go," he said in a stern voice, talking to the people around us.

Two men came up on either side of me, each grasping one of my arms and turning me to follow behind Jacob. This was useless, however, for I wouldn't have resisted either way.

"Sam!" I heard Brad call out, turning to find him running towards me.

"Stop!" I said in a voice much louder than I thought I could muster at the moment, surprising Brad as well, stopping him a few steps away.

"Sam, you—"

"Don't," I began softly, desperately trying to keep my voice even. "Just let me go," I sighed, my eyes dropping to stare at his boots. I didn't have to heart to look into his eyes, too scared of what they'd say if I did. "Besides, you wanted me gone, remember? I'm just trouble." I closed my eyes, the picture of Ray's body hauntingly similar to that of my partner's, both now dead, both because of me. "It's... I'm not worth it." I turned away, walking along with Jacob as he led us off the road and away from the convoy.

"Smart choice," Jacob began as we winded through the back alleys between buildings. "Very admirable of you."

"Fuck off," I grumbled, my eyes never leaving the ground.

"Come now, why so hostile?" He stopped for a moment to turn back to me, but I never looked back up at him. "Is it because of that guy?" My lack of response only gave him more room to continue. "Must be. Hm... it's odd, I must say, that you show so much allegiance to them. You've been with them for what, just over a week now? Short amount of time to become attached like that. Hell, you'd been with that partner of yours for years and didn't even bat an eyelash when you had to put him down—"

I jerked away from the men holding my arms, running full force towards him with my fist raised, aiming squarely for his jaw. He easily caught my hand, however, and used my momentum to slam my body up against the wall, twisting my arm and shoving it hard into my back.

"Ah, so defensive. Still a sore spot?" he mocked as he pressed me harder into the concrete wall.

"Fuck you!"

"I'll take that as a yes then. You know, you've always been a feisty one. I'm surprised you've made it this far. But, just to be sure," he sighed as pulled back, turning me so that I faced him. He flashed a brilliant smile, giving me a wink before his fist connected with my temple and the world was swallowed up into darkness.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: **_So I have about nine papers to do and a bunch of tests to be studying for, but I've decided to update my story instead. Plus, I had to prove to y'all wonderful, amazing readers that I, in fact, have **not** stopped writing this story. Plus, I think you all have waited long enough, no? I only hope this chapter is up to par and my writing hasn't slipped since I've sort of fallen out of the swing of things. Be sure to let me know if I'm slipping up in the content department; feedback is much appreciated!_

_I would like to thank Librangen, LeMiSo, Jamie, casper22, Colorful Raging Cancer, rubyred19, NiNa5, and ILuvOdie for your reviews last chapter. You all are wonderful for taking the time out to review!_

_Well, I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

**One of Us**

I groaned as I tilted my head, pain radiating through my temple. The first thing that hit me was the smell—a putrid blend of dried blood, smoke, and must. The air itself was stagnant, hanging heavy over me and making every breath feel as if it took twice the energy.

The second thing that registered was the fact that my hands and feet were securely bound to the chair I was seated in, a chair that seemed to be bolted to the floor, for when I attempted to move, the chair didn't give an inch. As I moved, I also noted that my skin seemed to stick to the hard metal of the chair; I wasn't wearing any clothes. Not that I was naked, my bra and panties still keeping me decently covered, but my shirt, pants, and shoes had all been removed.

The last thing I took notice of only revealed itself once I tried to open my eyes, and all I saw was black. The rough cloth that pressed firmly to my temples was the clear indicator that I was being blindfolded.

"I see you've finally woken," the familiar voice spoke, the sound placing him in front of me, though somewhat more to the left side, and a good distance away.

When I didn't respond, he continued. "We can either make this easy, be done in a few minutes, and go about our separate ways," he began, never being one who liked small talk and cut straight to the point, "or, we can do this the hard way. Your choice."

Suddenly the blindfold was yanked from my head. The room was dimly lit, a feature my throbbing head appreciated since it didn't hurt my eyes as much once I opened them. There wasn't much to the room itself—it looked almost like a hollowed out office space. There was a desk off to my right, littered with an array of objects I couldn't clearly make out, windows that were covered up by heavy layers of tarp, and a few chairs that sat strewn about the room. I couldn't locate the source of the light in the room, but judging by its golden hue, I figured it was sunlight that was somehow seeping through holes in the tarp.

There were three men standing around me, one who I couldn't see but was close enough to me to that I could feel his presence. All of them wore black masks and were outfitted in full gear that usually adorned resistance fighters. Jacob sat in a chair in front of me, looking out of place in his perfectly tailored suit, leaning back as if this were a casual conversation between friends.

"I need the codes."

"Codes?" I questioned, my voice soar from disuse.

A sneer formed on his lips as he leaned forward. "Don't try that with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

I leaned my head back slightly, closing my eyes for a moment as I contemplated my options. "I don't." Because, to be honest, I really didn't.

A fist collided with my bruised cheek, using just the right amount of force so that the bone wouldn't break, a particular skill I had to admire, even as pain radiated throughout my entire body.

"You sure about that?"

I took in a slow, steadying breath as I raised my head to look at him. His expression no longer held the devious malice it once had, and was, at this point, practically devoid of any emotion at all, save for a hint of annoyance. "Pretty sure."

Another blow prompted a new flood of pain, this one aimed squarely at my jaw. Whoever was delivering these hits was no amateur; they had done this enough to know how to draw out the maximum amount of pain with the minimal amount of detrimental damage.

"I'm truly sad to hear that, I am," Jacob said with a sigh as he stood. "I was hoping we could just do this the easy way—you tell me what I need to know, no blood spilled, we go our separate ways. Clearly, that is not the case." He tilted his head slightly as I looked up at him once more. "They trained you well, didn't they?"

I stared blankly at him as he appraised me. I leaned back slowly in my chair, pressing my lips together in a hard line.

"A shame, really," he continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I've found that it really does more harm than anything. It's not like I won't get the information—that _will_ happen—it's just such a waste of time. This back and forth, it serves no real purpose. It's just stalling; it always is, because everyone eventually gives up, one way or another." He paused for a moment. "Though I do admit, it is a rather nice way of breaking someone." A slow, sadistic smile formed on his lips as he spoke. "It's always fun to see what it is that pushes someone over the edge."

I tilted my head back and pulled lightly on my restraints, waiting for him to get to the point. From what I could tell I was securely bound, no way I could slip out. Not that it would help if I could. Both masked men in front of me were holding AKs and held the stance of highly trained professionals. These were not just some hired guns. Plus, there was the added fact that escaping also meant getting passed Jacob, something that by no means would an easy feat, if it were even a conceivable one. I'd always hated the fact that he was the one person I could never seem to beat.

"So I'll ask again," he said as his eyes took notice of my subtle movements, never one to miss even the smallest details, "give me the codes that I need."

I stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for any give, but there was nothing. "That's not a question."

A smile spread across his lips before the oh-so familiar fist collided with my ribs, effectively knocking the wind out of me and causing me to double over in the chair. I was yanked back up by my hair, the fist now exploring the unscathed surface of my other cheek.

"We'll play by your rules then."

* * *

><p>"You are one lucky bastard," Doc said as he held the bullet that had previously been lodged in Ray's flack jacket in the palm of his hand, seemingly studying the small piece of metal.<p>

"No shit, you're tellin' me!" Ray said as he looked down at it himself, rubbing the spot on his chest where the bullet would have impacted if it weren't for the body shield. He lifted his shirt to get a better look at the spot on his chest, a nasty bruise now forming there. "This shit is gonna hurt forever."

"Better than if this had actually made it through," Doc commented dryly.

"He's got a point there," Walt agreed, standing beside Doc as he carefully took one of the metal pieces into his hand to study for himself.

"I guess," he mumbled as he let his shirt fall. "There, you see Trombley? Getting shot is a fuckin' bitch."

Trombley stood in front of him, still staring at the spot on his chest even after he'd covered it. The comment he'd made months ago about wondering what it would be like to get shot replayed in his mind at Ray's comment, his fingers subconsciously tracing over his own chest in the same area. "Still... you didn't really—"

Trombley was cut off before he could finish as Brad walked over, stopping beside them as he turned towards Ray. "How you holdin' up?"

"You know it'll take more than a mere bullet to the chest to stop me, Brad!" Ray grinned in response. "But, now that you mention it, I could really use some dip, if you've got any."

A small smile touched Brad's lips. No matter what happened, he could always count on Ray to be, well, Ray. "You had us scared for minute there. Don't ever pull that shit again."

Ray's grin spread further across his lips at Brad's expression. "I'll do my best Brad, but out here in the wild, untamed, unpredictable land of Iraq, with all these Godless heathens running around, I can't make any promises."

"Hey, so, what are they gonna do about Sam?" Trombley suddenly piped up, as if he'd just remembered where he was.

Brad turned his gaze towards Trombley, seemingly assessing the question he'd been asked, as if trying to find the best way to go about answering the same way a parent does when a kid asks a question they're too young to understand the answer. "There's nothing to be done."

"What?"

"Wait, so you mean they're just going to leave her out there?" Walt spoke up from beside Doc. "We can't do that!"

"What exactly do you think we _can_ do?" Brad challenged half-heartedly.

"If one of us was dragged off like that, we wouldn't just be sitting around here like nothing happened," he shot back.

With a deep breath Brad looked at the younger man, his heart aching at the expression on his face. "First of all, she wasn't dragged off; she elected to go. And most importantly—" Brad paused for a moment, letting out a deep sigh before continuing, "She's not one of us."

"Like hell she isn't," Walt mumbled, turning away as he shook his head.

"Walt—"

"No!" he shot back, turning back with a ferocity that surprised Brad. "Don't try to sell me that 'brother in arms' bullshit. What, just because she doesn't have the same uniform makes her not one of us? We _shot_ her, then kept her here because _we_ couldn't get her a safe ride back. And through all of that, _all_ of that, she didn't _once_ blame us for anything, or even complain! She is a woman, stuck out in the middle of fucking _Iraq_ with a bunch of marines, without even the basic amenities, wounded, and didn't complain once. You tell me which one of us wouldn't be bitching about any of those things if we were in her shoes."

Silence fell between the men, all of them giving knowing glances to one another, unable to argue his point.

With a deep breath, Walt continued. "Through every fire-fight she's had to go through with us she's at least tried to help in some way. Yeah, a few things she brought on us, but never intentionally. Hell, when Ray got shot, she gave herself up to protect the rest of us! Do you even know what they're going to do to her?" His voice faltered on the last sentence, closing his eyes for a moment as if to block out the image he'd just created. "She's willing to die for us, and we're not even willing to consider the possibility of getting her back." He opened his eyes and looked back up at Brad's ever-cool gaze. "Do you even realize how fucked up that is?"

"Walt," Brad sighed, shaking his head, "it's not that easy—"

"Like hell it is," he cut him off. "Of all people, I would think that at least you would try."

"What do you expect me to do?" Brad shot back, irritation now evident in his voice. "We don't know where she is or even if she's still alive! Besides, you know they'll never allow us to go out there alone, not for this."

"How do you know?" Walt countered, matching Brad's voice with his own. "You don't care enough to even try to get permission."

Brad looked to be seconds away from hitting Walt but showed tremendous restraint as he forced himself hold back. Walt didn't know just how much Brad had actually invested in Sam, emotions he was too scared to even confront himself. "Walt, I respect everything she's done for us, and I _do_ care about what happens to her, but there is nothing that we can do for her now."

"No!" he shook his head, refusing to accept what he was being told. "What we can do for her now is try. That's all I'm asking, Brad. Please."

Brad drew in a slow, steadying breath. It wasn't enough that he was battling his own conscience about this, but when he looked at Walt and saw the fear and determination he held in his eyes, he finally conceded.

"It's not going to be easy," he began matter-of-factly, "and more likely than not it won't get approved, but I _suppose_ it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Walt's eyes widened for a brief moment, as did the others around them. "Are... are you serious?"

Brad nodded.

A small smile began to grow on Walt's lips as he gave a short nod, not bothering to question his change of heart further. "Let's go then."

* * *

><p>I could feel the blood as it dripped down the side of my face, curving around my jaw before falling to the floor. The cut had to originate somewhere around my right eyebrow because the pain there was screaming with every pulse. My breath fell in a ragged, uneven tempo, though I made sure to keep each one shallow so that the pain in my ribs wouldn't cripple my entire body. My wrists were sore from pulling at the restraints, cutting deeper into my skin each time. I could feel the warmth of the blood as it wrapped around my wrist like a crimson bracelet.<p>

"Let me ask you that again. What is the code to get into the room?"

"You know," I breathed out slowly, wincing with every word, "for an expert in your field, you don't really know shit, do you?"

The fist of my beloved torturer collided with my stomach, a place he'd begun to favor once my face was unable to take any more hits. I could feel my hair brush lightly over my knees as I coughed, blood splattering across the top of my thighs.

"Either you give me the code, or we continue with this. Your choice."

"Fuck you," I barely managed to get out, mustering every ounce of strength within me to lift myself upright in the chair. I'd finally learned what this 'code' was that he wanted—entry into a particular file room that held classified information on almost all the intel gathered through field operations—but still I didn't know what he was going to do once he got in.

The man went to strike me, an action I had anticipated and therefore braced myself, ready for the impact, but it never came. Jacob held up his hand, signaling for the man to stop as he stood up and walked over to me, picking up his chair along the way. He sat it down in front of me, sitting so that his knees were mere inches from mine. "You have such spirit," he began slowly as he leaned back, that same smile still plastered on his lips. "I'd always admired that about you. It seems they did too."

"I can't imagine what they saw in you."

His smile only grew despite the cutting remark. "Yes, well, obviously they saw something, now didn't they?" He reached into the pocket of his jacket, slowly pulling out a golden chain. "Personally, I think it's my people skills." My eyes followed his fingers as they pulled the beaded necklace out, my breath hitching in my throat. "I'd always find a way to make my target do exactly what I wanted of them."

I could feel my hands slowly ball into fists, pulling once more at the restraints that bound them. The pain only faintly registered, the warm liquid refreshing its worn path, reminding me of the open wounds. This was the only thing holding me back, knowing that there was nothing I could do in this position.

A faint hint of smug satisfaction crossed his face at my reaction; he was banking on it. "You recognize this, don't you? From your little friend... Alex, I believe?"

My eyes followed the object dangling at the end of the chain: a 7.62mm bullet. I remembered seeing it hanging from Alex's neck; I'd never seen him without it. He'd told me it was a charm given once you pass scout/sniper school. It was always supposed to be kept with him, and no one else would have another one for him if he lost it. What I couldn't understand, however, was how the hell Jacob had gotten it.

He picked the bullet up between his fingers, holding it out between us like a piece offering. "I hear that once you've finally passed training, they give you one of these guys. Call it a HOG's tooth, right? Each one is special, and from what I hear, you're supposed to die before you give it up. Guess you made that possible."

I lunged for him, my body jerking back once it hit the restraints of the chair. My wrists and ankles screamed out in protest, my ribs making their injuries known. I cringed as pain flooded every inch of my being and cursed myself for lashing out like that. I knew better. I was letting him get to me.

That same, sickening smile spread across his lips as he watched me, never even flinching. Once I settled back into the chair, he lowered the tip of the bullet to my thigh. "Tell me," he began slowly, dragging the pointed tip across my battered skin, "how was it, having to watch your partner die like that?" When he looked up at me, his expression had changed to a seemingly genuinely curious gaze.

"Fuck. You."

"It was only a question," he said, his tone feigning hurt as he stopped the tip over the small wound on my upper thigh, the one I'd gotten from my first night with Bravo Company. It was mostly healed, but a scab indicated its still-healing status.

"It's never just a question with you," I breathed out, watching his movements warily.

"Yes, I suppose... but I simply wondered what it was like for you, having to go against your own conscience and kill for the greater good."

"Isn't that what we always do?"

"Ah, yes! You see, they've brain washed us so much that what we're doing doesn't even register beyond carrying out an order. All those innocent lives we simply count as collateral damage..." He shook his head slowly as he turned the bullet around between his fingers, pressing it harder into my skin. "I've risen above that now."

"You mean you've become a traitor," I spat back.

"I'm not the traitor." His tone suddenly darkened as he glared up at me. "_They_ are the traitors. They are the ones who promised that what we'd be doing was for our country, for freedom, for all the bullshit propaganda they spout at citizens so that they can sleep better at night. They are the ones who lied to us, who made us put our lives on the line so that they could pursue their own selfish agenda—"

"Bullshit," I cut in, my glare now matching his. "They didn't _make_ us do anything, we took these assignments willingly. _You're_ the one who got greedy, who decided to go against everything we stand for—"

"What we stand for?" He let out the question as a laugh. "Do you even know what they stand for?"

My eyes narrowed, but my mouth remained shut.

Suddenly he raised the bullet up, balling his fist around it for a better grip before slamming it into the old wound in my leg. It took a second for my brain to even process what had happened, but once it hit, my leg felt like it had been set on fire. I cried out, my entire body erupting in even more pain as I instinctively jerked in a vain attempt to escape the source of my newest injury, igniting pain from every previous wound anew.

"Is this what they stand for?" he shouted above my cries, digging the tip deeper into my flesh before yanking it out. I felt, rather than saw, my blood, the heat burning my flesh as it flowed around my thigh, pooling on the ground at my feet. He roughly grabbed my chin and forced me to look up as he held the bullet inches from my face. "Killing our own, for the sake of some 'greater good'?"

The shiny, brass façade was now interrupted by small rivulets of my blood that all flowed to the tip; small, uniform teardrops of crimson falling silently. _How poetic_, the sardonic thought drifted through my head as the world began closing in around me.

Jacob took a step back and assessed me; he knew he was losing me. My head lolled to the side, and everything began sounding like it was under water. I could hear my heart in my chest slowing with every beat. I couldn't think past anything but the pain. The pain that existed in every inch of my body, in every breath I took, in every one of my thoughts.

_But you deserve this_, my brain quietly reminded me as I watched Jacob's shadow move closer once more. _This is barely even punishment. This is nothing compared to what you truly deserve_.

"And now you run around, protecting some little band of _devil dogs_," he scoffed at the nickname.

_No! _some rational, still vaguely functioning part of my brain screamed. Don't bring them into this. _They had nothing to do with_—

I screamed as a strong hand grabbed my shoulder, crushing the wound beneath it. "Come back to me darling," I heard Jacob's voice, now crystal clear. "Don't want you falling asleep on us, now would we?"

I bit my lip hard, desperately trying to contain my cries. I could feel my body shaking, perpetuating the never-ending cycle of pain that was coursing through my body as if it were the very blood that flowed through my veins.

Just when I didn't think I could feel any more pain, that my body had had enough, he ripped the bandage covering the bullet wound on my shoulder clean off before colliding his fist with the exposed flesh. Blinding pain tore through me, though no noise left my throat—everything suddenly became clear, voices crisp, the light flooding in sharply contrasting with the dark shadows huddled in the corners, the blood sitting atop my flesh keeping me warm as if blanketing my exposed skin. The pain all balled into one burning hot white orb that centered in my chest, crushing my ribs and making it impossible to breathe, to do anything really besides perceive, take in everything that was happening around me like some disconnected dream.

"These bureaucratic lap-dogs, who _shot_ you," he continued on, nodding in reference to my shoulder, "you care enough about them to willingly subject yourself to this?" He shook his head slowly, slipping his hands casually into his pockets. "And here I was, thinking so much more of you... but, everything has its price, I just wasn't expecting _this_ to be yours."

"Don't," I felt myself choke out, but I wasn't sure any noise had even left my throat until he continued.

"See, you already know, so why fight it? It always comes down to this, which truly does make this process so much more boring," he sighed. "But, we _are _running out of time and I'm running out of patience.I'm sure I don't have to say it, but I need those codes Phee, or else the rest of your boys will end up like your buddy Alex."

I pulled at my restraints, the pain a mere afterthought now. "I can't," I whispered, my voice hoarse from the soreness of my throat.

"So, you'd rather I kill them? One's already down, Phee... That much blood on your hands just to protect an organization that doesn't give a shit about you?"

"The code you want... it's biometric now," I managed to choke out, slowly regaining control of my voice. "Even if I did give you the code, you wouldn't be able to get in."

He stood still for a moment, seemingly assessing whether or not this was the truth. "There has to be another way in."

"There isn't."

"There has to be!" He'd begun pacing back a forth, a tell-tale sign that he was getting nervous. "There is, and you know about it."

"If I knew, I would tell you," I responded in the most forceful voice I could muster.

"Oh really?" He nodded to the guy who was still standing beside me, and once again a blow struck my shoulder, this time it coming from the back. I gasped out at the renewed pain, wincing as he pulled my hair back, forcing me to look up as Jacob leaned down inches from my face. "If you truly didn't know, you would have told me hours ago. Don't patronize me little girl; I've been doing this far longer than you have."

"Go to hell," I spat back through gritted teeth.

A slow laugh formed in his throat. "Sweetheart, I'm already there. Now tell me what I need to know, or else I will not hesitate to kill your little friends."

I groaned, closing my eyes as I tried to even my breathing. Having to choose between my life and the country, that was easy, but having to decide the fate of others,_ innocent_ others, was not something I was willing to sacrifice. "They're running a security scan sometime this month," I began slowly, trying to control my voice from cracking. "The biometrics will be down for fifteen minutes. All access codes will be set to 99991 before getting reset." I slowly opened my eyes, looking back up at him. "There's only one way in and out, and security will be heavy."

"Don't worry about that sweetheart; they've trained us for far worse." That smile once again came to his face as he slowly stood up, ease and grace returning to his movements. "You have done a great service to your country; you should be proud."

He reached into the pocket on the inside of his jack, pulling out a phone and quickly punching in a number as he walked to the door. "I'm done with her," he said simply to the guys in the room, nodding towards me. "Do whatever you like, but I won't be needing her anymore." And with that he walked out, the door closing shut behind him.

The hand that had been gripping my hair, keeping my head up, let go. My head fell forward, an action that sent pain jolting through my system. Yet, everything was numb now as the weight of what I'd just done settled upon me. As I felt the men begin to walk towards me, an eerie calm settled in the pit of my chest.

As cowardly as it was, I openly welcomed the presence of death knocking at my door.

I'm not sure when it happened, but the world around me consumed itself in the ever-stretching expanse of darkness, and I allowed myself to get lost in the void, no longer caring enough to fight against it. The guys were safe, and I was here, receiving what I deserved.

* * *

><p>"I know what I'm asking," Brad said slowly, feeling the heavy weight of Godfather's gaze upon him, "but you have to let us try. Please, sir."<p>

"You're asking me to risk the lives of some of my best men for some girl who has put this entire battalion in immediate danger twice now?" the raspy voice questioned disbelievingly.

"With all due respect, we're asking you to allow us to recover one of our own."

"Is that right?" His eyes scanned over the men before him: Brad, Walt, Trombley, and Ray, all who'd come to him with the request to recover the girl who had been with them.

"Sir, we do owe her—"

"We offered our protection and resources, despite the risks that she posed being with us," he cut Walt off before he could finish. "What exactly is it that you think we owe her?"

"We were the ones who shot her."

"You seem to have forgotten that we were also the ones who got her out of whatever shitty situation she was trapped in, Corporal. She is _not_ one of us. She is simply a civilian who happened to get caught in the crossfire."

"But she wasn't just some civilian, sir," Ray cautiously spoke up.

"Yeah, and she didn't just sit around waiting to get sent home; she fought right alongside us," Walt said with a nod.

"She cares about us," Trombley piped up, his voice somewhat distant, nostalgic.

"She was willing to give her life for us," Brad said, the determination clear in his voice. "If that's not worth fighting to get her back, then I don't know what is."

"That was her choice," he challenged, "and I am not going to put the lives of my Marines at risk for the sake of one woman."

"And this is our choice," Brad said before taking a deep breath. "With all due respect, we all plan on going, whether we get your permission or not."

His eyes slowly scanned over the men before him. "You all do realize what the implications of going against a direct order are, correct?"

They all nodded simultaneously.

He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly, shaking his head to hide the faint smile that touched his lips, but was gone almost as quickly as it had come.

"To see the willingness of this group to risk your lives in order to save one of whom you consider to be one of your own, well, honestly, it makes me proud." After a moment, he gave a short nod. "You've got twenty-four hours. If you are not back here after that time is up, you've got one hell of a punishment coming your way."

A round of smiles broke out among the team, quick thank yous immediately following as they all turned back, cheering as they went.

"And Sergeant Colbert," Godfather called out, making Brad stop and turn to face him once more.

"Yes sir?"

"If any of those boys get hurt, it's on you."

He nodded, beaming respect for the man as he gave a 'yes sir' before turning and following the others back to the Humvee. As he watched them, the weight of Godfather's words fell upon his shoulders. It had always been his responsibility to protect these men, and he would be damned if he let them down now.

As he approached the rest of the group, a slow calm settled over them, the task at hand now posing as their greatest obstacle. For all that may remain ahead of them, it was currently just a matter of packing up and figuring out how the hell they were going to find her in such a large, chaotic city.

* * *

><p><em>Fun fact: HOG stands for Hunter of Gunman and is a title given ONLY if you pass scoutsniper school, which is one of the hardest training schools to past. In fact, most who go through the program and actually stay throughout the duration may never officially pass, keeping the title of PIG (Professionally Instructed Gunman) for the rest of their careers_.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN:** _So this is awkward... OK, OK, I know I promised this sooner, but in my defense this chapter is considerably longer than I ever intended it to be. Actually, it was originally going to be even longer, but I felt bad about taking this long and I felt I owed it to you guys to not make y'all wait any longer. Plus, it's Christmas, and I feel especially cheerie for some reason (possibly the Doctor Who Christmas special I just watched; anyone else?). With all this in mind, and the fact that my lovely editor has not actually gotten the chance to read through and edit it, this chapter is **extremely** susceptible to changes. If I make any significant alterations, I'll mention it in the next chapter (I'm not sure if it sends email alerts for edits on existing chapters, so just to be safe). Oh, and don't hesistate to point things out yourselves! Your input is very much appreciated._

_On another note, I managed to make it through my first semester of college without failing out! Yay me! Now, as for next semester..._

_A million thank yous to ILuvOdie, nina5424, JumbledThoughts, NiNa5, Laila Burns, Librangen, casper22, USMCKempeitai, rubyred19, MoonWolfRunner, mysterious guest, Jamie, and 93 for your reviews and a bajillion thank yous to everyone who has ever commented because I have now surpassed 100 reviews! (Party? I think yes) You all are amazing and if it weren't for your feedback this story definitely wouldn't have made it this far. So much love to you all!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

**The Mission**

"Here, take this."

Brad looked down at the pack Doc handed him before looking back up, the question clear in his eyes.

"It's a little medical kit I made. I can't be sure of what you guys are going to be faced with, and I sure as hell can't tell you what state she'll be in when you find her." Brad noticed Doc's momentary lapse when talking about Sam, stopping himself from saying _if_ instead of _when_, but made no mention of it. He knew what they were going up against, and he appreciated the encouragement, no matter how small the gesture. "But I can guess, and I don't think it's gonna be good. I put in extra stuff, just in case."

Brad tucked it away as he nodded. "Thanks man. It means a lot."

"No problem brother," he nodded in return. "Just make sure you give 'em hell, OK?"

Brad nodded before turning and heading back towards the others. Walt, Ray, and Trombley were all standing by the Humvee, gear packed and ready to go. This was possibly the fastest Brad had ever seen them get prepared without getting yelled a direct order to do so, and that fact alone was enough to make him smile, albeit if only for a second, before the expression slipped from his features to be replaced by hard, determined lines.

They had mapped out a plan; not a very reliable or guaranteed plan, but it was better than nothing. They intended to drive back through the heart of Baghdad, back to where Ray had been shot, and trace the steps from where Brad had been able to see her dragged off. Beyond the obvious complication of being able to track her in any sort of way through the maze of back-alleys and streets, they were very much aware of the other dangers that threatened this approach, but it was all they had. She had nothing on her that they could have used to track her down, and in hindsight, that may have been a fault on their side from the beginning. However, it was too late for wishful thinking now, and in no way did it help their cause. They had to stay focused and alert if they were to have any chance at this.

"You guys ready?" Brad said as he walked up to them, gazing around at their faces one by one. While he could see the trepidation lingering in the recess of their minds, he could _feel_the overwhelming sense of fortitude that surrounded them, almost palpable in the air. He realized then that he needn't have even asked the question, their answers driving that point home.

"Yes sir," Trombley was the first to reply, not a single mocking hint in his tone.

"You know I'm ready sir," Walt nodded, his hands twitching anxiously at his side.

"Well, if I'm going to die for a girl," Ray began slowly, a familiar grin finding its way to his lips, "might as well be one who's worth it. The fact that she's hot doesn't hurt either," he added with a shrug, his tone lighthearted enough so that the comment didn't carry any weight beyond just good humor.

"Good to see your head's in the right place Corporal Person," Brad replied with the same weightlessness in his tone. "Alright then, let's go."

With a nod, they all moved around into their respective places within the Humvee with the exception of Walt, who took Sam's usual spot in the right back seat. Once situated, Ray began driving, and a silent resolve settled over the group as they left.

* * *

><p>When they reached the city, it was as if they were coming into a completely different world than the one they'd passed through earlier. The streets were quieter now that they lacked the large crows from before, only a few people milling about under the muted light that poured from windows and doors, serving as street lamps in the darkness. Immediately an air of unease surrounded them, and it didn't help that they seemed to be the only American unit within a few miles.<p>

"This is gonna be a fuckin' cakewalk," Trombley grumbled as his eyes shifted around them.

"Stay frosty; remember, we're out here alone." He could almost feel the eye-roll from Trombley, who thankfully chose not to voice his thoughts out loud.

"So what's the plan again?" Ray asked as he pulled over at almost the exact spot where everything had gone down earlier, killing the engine. His eyes darted around for a moment, his hand subconsciously rubbing over the bruise on his chest before dropping back to the wheel after he realized what he was doing.

"Simple: we look everywhere."

"So what you're saying is—there is no plan." Walt was staring at him with a fixed gaze, his blue eyes piercing in the darkness.

"There's not much else we _can_ do," Brad replied in a clipped tone. "Our best bet is to retrace her steps until we lost her and go from there, unless any of you gentlemen has a better idea?"

Slowly but surely, they all proceeded to shake their heads. "Good. Then let's go."

Once they got out of the Humvee, they all fell in behind one another into practiced steps, Brad leading the way. He led them down the alleyway between two large buildings, the same he'd seen Sam walk down as she was being led away. He paused at an intersection, looking back to judge the distance before turning right down another.

"Alright boys, keep your eyes open." From this point on, they had very little go on since this is where he'd seen her taken before leaving his sight. The darkness didn't help either; the muted light streaming from windows was sparse at best, and did little to illuminate their path. Unfortunately, they'd have to rely on the flashlights attached to their weapons for any good source of light in the darkness of the alleyways.

"Hey, d'you see that?" Walt suddenly spoke up, walking up to a wall of a building on their right. He focused his light on the wall, a tentative hand coming up to touch something that darkened the brickwork.

"What is it?" Ray asked as the rest of them turned to see what he was looking at.

"It's..." Walt's voice halted, turning sharply to look over at Brad. "It could be anyone's though."

Brad glanced at the spot on the wall, realizing within seconds that it was blood. He looked at Walt's intense gaze, knowing the fear that was sitting at the surface. "We can't take that chance. We have to assume it's hers." He walked over, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's not enough to be from a bullet wound. She's probably worse for wear at best, but she's still alive. We'll find her."

The finality in Brad's tone seemed to sooth Walt enough to relax him, if only in the slightest.

Brad dropped his hand and glanced down, shining his light on the ground at the base of the building. The dirt had been noticeably disturbed where there had been struggle, but something else caught his eye. There in the loose dirt stood a very distinct pattern within a footprint. Normally there would be no point in focusing on this—there were dozens of footprint tracks crisscrossing one another in no particular direction—but the intricacy of this one was screaming to be noticed.

"That man liked to dress nice, didn't he? Even for being out here..." Brad said this to no one in particular as he began following the distinct design of the print, one that you wouldn't find out here in everyday use.

"You got something?" Trombley called out from further behind.

"Think so. See these tracks? The design is too intricate for what they wear around here, and they're not boot tracks either." He continued to follow them, glancing ahead every so often in case of a threat.

"Think they're his?" Ray called from behind him.

"Can't imagine they'd be anyone else's."

The tracks led them through a winding of alleyways, seemingly devoid of any intentional path. They continued on through the buildings, moving silently in the calm night air. They stopped abruptly as the tracks ended at the start of a paved road.

"Shit," Brad muttered as he glanced down the road.

"What do we do now?" Trombley asked, eyeing a man across the street.

"Wait," Walt suddenly called out.

"What is it?" Brad asked as he turned to him, noticing his intense gaze fixed on something across the street. He glanced over himself, but didn't see anything particularly worth noting.

"See that building over there?" Walt continued, pointing into the darkness. Brad walked over to where he was standing, following the direction he was indicating. "The one back behind the building on the right. See it?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"The light." The entire building was in darkness, save for the first level, but about six stories up there was a tiny pinhole of light shining through one of the windows. "Think they're trynna hiding something up there?"

"Let's hope so." Brad readjusted the hold on his weapon before carefully crossing the road, slipping seamlessly back into the deserted alleys once on the other side. The team followed behind, right on his heels.

He glanced around a corner before immediately shifting back, pressing his back against the wall as he cursed softly.

"How many?"

"Two that I can see," he muttered in reply to Ray, "standing at the entrance. Both armed."

"Shit," Walt muttered. "Any other way in?"

"Got a fire escape at your three," Trombley nodded forward. "If you can get passed 'em without notice, it'd be a straight shot."

Brad glanced over, assessing the options laid out before them. He glanced up at the window on the sixth floor, knowing it would be better to do this as quietly as possible for her sake. "Alright, let's move. On my mark."

Brad crouched down, shifting his weapon up as he carefully turned so that he was aiming down the alley. Currently, both men were in a heated conversation with one another and the one closest to them was turned with his back to where they were, ignorant of their presence. Brad raised his hand, holding still for a moment as he made sure they were distracted before motioning for the others to move forward. They followed one after the other, quickly and silently moving across the intersection. Once they had all moved to the other side, Brad followed suit.

"Alright, Walt, you head up there and make sure it's clear. We'll head up afterwards."

Walt nodded, readjusting his gun before jumping up to grip the first bar of the ladder, pulling himself up. As he ascended the flights, Brad occasionally glanced down the alley to make sure they hadn't been heard.

Once he reached the sixth floor, Walt grabbed the flashlight and shined it in the window. From what he could tell, the hallway was empty and there were no signs of anyone inside. He pressed his hand firmly to the glass and pressed against it hard before gently pressing it upwards. After a moment of struggling it gave, sliding open soundlessly. "This is too easy," he shook his head before he turned and leaned over the railing, signaling for the others to follow him up.

"Looks like it's game time boys," Brad muttered as he began ascending the ladder.

"God, I miss this," Trombley sighed as they began moving up. "Finally putting all that training to use."

"You're telling me you actually enjoyed training?" Ray called down to him.

"You didn't?"

"Focus," Brad cut in harshly, the warning clear in his voice.

They slipped in one by one as they reached the top, their flashlights lighting up the once dark hallway.

"Looks like this place hasn't been used in years," Ray whispered, his eyes following the particles of dust drifting through their beams of light. There were rooms on either side of the hall, each door shut and, upon further inspection, locked.

"Bet they want it to seem that way. Window came open way too easily," Walt commented as they moved further down the hall.

"Wait, wait," Brad whispered as he held his hand up. "Hear that?"

Everyone stopped and stood still, straining to hear whatever noise Brad had noticed. Very faintly there drifted the sound of indistinct voices through the hallway.

Brad motioned them to follow behind him as he moved forward, keeping his ears trained on the noises. He turned down another hallway once they reached the end and stopped at a door about halfway down. It was slightly cracked, allowing the voices to be heard clearly now that they were so close and lighting up the dark hallway enough to be seen with the light from within.

He turned back to the others, motioning for Ray to come up and face him so they'd have both sides covered. "On my mark," he spoke, loud enough for only them to hear, before he drew himself up in preparation. "Move."

After Brad kicked in the door, it only took a matter of seconds. There were two men in the room, one on each side. Before they could fully reach for their weapons both Ray and Brad took them out with strategically placed shots. After both men slumped to the ground, their bodies settling into the crimson pools that grew around them, the air fell still once more.

It was then that Brad finally turned his attention to the limp body curled up on the floor, and a flurry of emotions slammed into him full force, each battling for dominance as it hit him: they'd actually found her.

He slowly walked over to her, lowering his gun as he placed it on the ground while falling to kneel beside her. His eyes roamed her body, taking in every detail of her skin. He could barely see beneath the layers of drying and dried blood to discern where the wounds originated, but it didn't take him long to find them. The wound on her leg, last he'd seen it barely a healing scratch, was now gaping open, blood still flowing freely over her skin. He involuntarily winced when he took note of her shoulder, stitches ripped from their hold leaving more of her flesh torn than from before. As he looked over the rest of her body, it seemed like any inch that wasn't covered in blood was darkened by bruising.

The way she was laying on the floor made it so that her hair fell over her face, masking it from view. He reached out to move the strands out of the way, but stopped momentarily when he realized that his hands were faintly shaking. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the excess of adrenaline still flooding his veins before he carefully brushed her hair aside.

He drew in a sharp breath, closing his eyes for a moment before forcing them open again. He knew there was a good chance that her face had suffered the same treatment as her body, but he hadn't counted on how it would affect him once he saw the damage up close. He actually bristled at the site, an overwhelming sense of protectiveness and anger washing over him. He carefully assessed the damage, noticing that the right side of her face was almost completely covered in blood from a cut above her eyebrow. His thumb gently brushed along her jaw, barely grazing the battered skin beneath as if even this touch would be enough to cause renewed pain.

He realized then, as his eyes looked over the full extent of the damages, that what truly angered him was the fact that every bruise that marred her features was carefully placed, every hit delicately made to make sure nothing broke; that enough pain would get through without restricting their efforts in getting her to cooperate. He could feel muscle in his body tense as hatred for the men who did this to her swept through him.

"Is she..."

The question was left open as Brad turned slightly, the sound of Walt's voice bringing him back from his thoughts as he glanced back at the men behind him.

"Yeah," he breathed out, giving a slight nod in response. "Just." The one thing that had given him solace, if only a little, was the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

She was still alive.

"But will she—"

"Give me the kit," he said, ignoring the question as he carefully lifted her up, resting her back against his chest. "Walt, Trombley, watch the doors," he said as he slipped seamlessly back into his commanding role, knowing the huge risk they were still in being here, especially after firing off those rounds. "Ray, help me with her."

"Hey," he spoke against her ear as Ray pulled out the medical bag, "you gotta stay with me Sam, OK?" He didn't know why he was talking to her, he wasn't even sure if she could hear anything he was saying, but he still hoped that some part of her was conscious enough to know that she was safe now.

"Here." Ray handed over the kit, kneeling down in front of her. "What do you want me to do?"

"Wrap up her leg," he instructed as he pulled out the supplies they would need. He pulled off his gloves and began wrapping her shoulder, silently wishing they could have Doc here to asses her damage properly. He'd been given enough training to do this properly, his fingers making quick but delicate work of placing the bandage, but Doc would know all of the precautions to take.

A low groan caught Brad's attention, his head quickly turning from her shoulder to her face. Her brow was creased as her lips parted slowly, trying to form words that only escaped as a jumble of sounds.

"Sam?" He quickly finished bandaging up her shoulder, carefully shifting so that she was leaning back against his chest, tilting her head up towards him. "Can you hear me?"

Another groan escaped as her eyelids fought to open.

"Shh, Sam, it's Brad." He reached up to cup her chin gently, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. "You're safe."

Her eyelids finally parted, revealing the cerulean irises beneath.

"Hey," he said softly, unable to contain the smile that spread across his lips.

"B-Brad...?" It took her eyes a moment to focus on him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Sam?"

She turned her head at the sound of Ray's voice, a worrying expression immediately setting into her features. "Ray..." She turned back to Brad, a look of horror crossing her face. "No… oh God, no."

Brad looked down at her in confusion, glancing up at Ray who looked equally as worried. "Sam, what is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Her voice was small, broken. It tore at him to hear her like this, so different from her usual strong, confident self.

"Hey, none of this is your fault," he tried his best to console her. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this."

She closed her eyes as she turned her head further into the crook of his shoulder, shaking her head. "It's my... all of it—God, I don't deserve to be here! I'm _so_ sorry..."

Then he felt it; trembles working their way through her entire body, jaw clenching tight, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants, and the warm, clear liquid sinking into the skin of his thumb.

He could feel his heart stop as the realization hit him. She'd broken.

"Oh, fuck, no—God, no!" Ray's voice broke through Brad's spiraling thoughts. "Shit—no, Sam, I'm not dead. I'm here. We're all here. This isn't—"

Ray's words brought him back to the present and helped him understand exactly what she had meant. The last time she'd seen them she'd thought Ray had died. Seeing him here now, looking completely unharmed, could only lead to one conclusion. Judging by her reaction, whoever had been torturing her must have also threatened a similar outcome for the rest of the team.

"Fuck!" he cursed more at himself for not seeing it sooner. "Ray's right, you're not dead." He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks as she opened her eyes to look at him once more. "We're all here. _You're_ still here."

"This isn't..." her voice broke and trailed off. Slowly she reached her hand up, trembling, until her fingertips just barely brushed over Brad's cheek. The faintest smile pulled at the corner of her lips as she whispered, "You're safe."

He felt her hand began to fall but he quickly grabbed it, holding her fingers against his skin, needingthe contact, _needing_ her to _feel_ and to _know_ that this was all real. Or maybe he was the one who needed it, needed the contact, the reassurance, but he never allowed himself to question the thought.

"I should be the one saying that to you," he grumbled softly.

Confusion flashed across her expression, but it was fleeting as her eyes quickly became distant and unfocused, looking at him but not _seeing_ him.

His brow wrinkled with concern at this sudden change. "Sam?" Her lips parted as if to say something, before her eyes rolled back and she fell limp in his arms. Where his hand rested against her neck, it only minutely registered that her pulse had been growing weaker by the minute, but now, unsure if he could even feel it at all, it truly hit him. He was about to lose her.

For a moment it was if his heart, and the entire world around him, had stopped. "No..." the word came out so low he wasn't even sure he'd said it. "No, no—fuck!" he cursed loudly as he reached for the bag of medical supplies, yanking it to his side as he began digging through it.

He pulled out two needles filled with clear liquids. The first he knew to be morphine, a dose he only hoped would be enough to block out the extensive damage she'd taken. He was less knowledgeable about the specifics of the second one, knowing only what Doc told him: "If she's out, it'll definitely get her going again." He didn't provide anything further, and Brad hadn't asked. In retrospect, he wished he had, but it was too late to question it now.

He kept his hands steady as he administered the morphine, knowing that unnecessary panic would help no one right now. "Come on Sam," he growled as he dropped the needle, his hand reaching back up to cup her cheek. "Come on! Don't you dare give up on me now! _Come on!_"

Her skin was cold beneath his fingers, her body limp and unmoving. This wasn't happening. Not now.

"Brad, she's not..."

He ripped off his helmet, barely hearing the noise it made as it fell to the ground. He carefully laid her down flat on the ground, pressing his ear to her chest. The noises surrounding him—yelling on the streets below, the guys calling out to him, his own ragged breathing—all fell silent as he desperately listened for her heartbeat, willing the slow thump to reverberate through him.

He closed his eyes tighter. He heard nothing.

"No." His voice was hoarse, sounding almost like a growl when it reached his ears. He grasped desperately for the other needle, administering the drug with deft fingers. "Not like this, you're not giving up on me now!"

He drew back, lacing his fingers together as he carefully positioned the heel of his palm to the center of her chest. Steady, controlled movements. One, two, three, four; he counted off in his head, moving through the motions mechanically. CPR had been one of the first and most basic skills he had been taught in training, drilled into his head until he knew the procedure by heart. His lips pressed to hers, cold and unmoving beneath his own. He forced air into her lungs, willing her to breathe.

_Come on._

Eight. Nine. Ten.

_Breathe!_

Three. Four. Five.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, could feel the pressure pulling him back, but he shrugged it off. He couldn't stop, not now, not when he was so close. He could feel it.

Six. Seven. Eight.

Nothing.

Nine. Ten.

_Just one more..._

He pressed his lips to hers, forcibly breathing air into her lungs. He'd pause for a moment, wait, and as her body remained still, he continued. This went on for a while, and with each repetition he was becoming more and more desperate. The men looked on, unable to say or do anything that would stop him because even if they didn't overtly show it, they were all just as desperate as Brad, silently praying for her to come back.

"Sam, come on, please..."

Four. Five. Six.

"Please!"

Eight. Nine. Ten.

Nothing.

"Goddammit, Breathe!"

Then he felt it.

Her eyes snapped open, full and confused as she gasped desperately for air, pressing her hands to her chest.

"What... the hell... did you... do?" she rasped between breaths.

A sudden warmth slammed into his chest that spread throughout his body the moment he realized she was alive. Truly alive.

Once he was able to collect himself he leaned back slightly, giving her more room. Even though her voice was still hoarse, she sounded more like herself than she had before. "The usual; just saving your life," he said as he placed his hand on her cheek, studying her reaction. He wouldn't allow himself to admit that he wanted to, _needed_ to touch her, needed to _know_ that this was really happening. "How do you feel?"

She found it in herself to narrow her eyes at that, shoving his hand away. "How the fuck do you think?"

He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his lips; he'd almost forgotten how much he'd missed that mouth of hers. She was definitely back. "You're welcome."

"Screw you."

"Tempting offer. Is this how you thank all the people who save your life, or am I a special case?" He didn't let the small smile that touched her bruised lips go unnoticed. Whatever had happened, she was more conscious than she had been before. "I'll take that as a yes, then. And while I'm flattered, I'm afraid this may not be the appropriate venue."

"I hate to break up such a touching reunion," Trombley called from just outside the door, "but we need to move. Now."

He glanced up at Trombley and the others before looking back down at her. "Think you can move?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Come on," Brad said as he slipped his arm underneath her, wrapping her arm over his shoulder as he carefully lifted her up. He made sure to stand on the side of her good leg, letting her lean most of her weight on him. "You good?"

"I can't feel a fuckin' thing," she mumbled, though her face scrunched up as they began to move.

"Yeah, morphine'll do that to you." He motioned for Ray to bring over her clothing that was left in a heap on the floor.

"It's amazing," she replied with a lazy grin, not protesting as they dressed her as if she were a child, moving her limbs (carefully) this way and that to get her clothes back on.

"Remind me never to give you drugs again," he mumbled after they finished, pulling her up against him once more to take her weight after grabbing his weapon off the ground.

"Whatever you say, _Sarge_."

He rolled his eyes and turned to the others. "You guys ready to move?"

They all nodded as he made his way to the door. Walt and Trombley led the way, followed by Brad and Sam, then Ray who covered their backs. As they made their way down the hall, they all moved perfectly in sync, as if they'd been preparing for this one night their whole lives.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>: This just happened so I feel I should announce it to you all (without taking up anymore space in that ridiculously long AN; sorry!) I have finally been granted an account on AO3 (yay!-for those who don't know what that is, it's a site named Archive of Our Own, check it out! It's everything FF should be, in my opinion) and will probably be posting this story up there once I get the chance. The reason I mention this is because what I post there may have significant alterations to the story line; I've always thought that if I could go back there are many things I would change/edit, and now I have the chance, so why not take it? It won't be vastly different from this version, but there will be significant chances to major events. Check it out if you want, or not. I won't work on it until I'm completely done with this version, so it's a ways away anyways, but I thought I'd give y'all the heads up. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!_


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